Midsummer Night
by Darren Brimhall
Summary: With all of humanity facing extinction, the Joe Team must stop a valuable scientist from joining Cobra and find a far greater threat facing the World.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Awareness came quickly.

_Quicker than last time_, Mindbender recalled, while suspended with in the cloning chamber in comparison to when that level of development was reached with his previously cloned self.

If Cobra Commander ever found out about this, he'd go out of his way to seek out and destroy every one of his cloning labs Mindbender established. Cobra was the kind of organization where one had to be constantly aware of who was doing what, so to avoid having a knife deeply buried in one's back. But the risk of such was far outweighed by the benefits of being on the forefront of a organization who's goals of toppling the currently stagnating political systems of the World, and rule with dominating, totalitarian force like rulers of old—without having to deal with the headaches which came with democracy. Considering how badly current governments were so horribly mired in their own egotistical ways, having such power to act was very appealing.

Mindbender was one such person. A formerly kindly dentist whose experimentive work in relieving the pain his patients felt twisted his own mind towards evil; his position was attained soon after the death of Cobra's first Chief Scientist, and held until his contempt of Cobra Commander's leadership ability eventually manifested itself in the cloning experiments that yielded the creation of the 'perfect leader' _Serpentor--_made from the DNA of histories greatest military leaders, Serpentor was designed to lead Cobra to where it rightfully belonged.

However, Serpentor was slain in a civil uprising with in Cobra's ranks, and later Mindbender died after being abandoned to a slow death by Cobra Commander.

But years later, Cobra Commander brought Mindbender back using the same cloning technology for some odd reason. And Mindbender was once again his loyal servant, but for his own benefit. The memory of contempt and his first death were still there, held within the very strands of DNA from the original Mindbender. When Cobra faded from the World's stage for a time, Mindbender wisely used that time to establish his special cloning laboratories in secretive places all over the World—for the sole purpose of re-growing another him in the event of another fatal demise. With every convenience possible with in them, and isolated from each other, there would be no way to find and destroy them all.

For when Cobra returned, he returned with it until siding against Cobra Commander with a recreated Serpentor. And once again defeated in another internal struggle that eventually cost them both their lives.

Mindbender couldn't recall the exact details, but once formed and born he did intend to look it up. Cobra Commander always personally put his 'victories' down in the official record. It would be interesting to see how much gloss would be added to the record of his second demise.

The fluid was moving faster in the chamber, brushing over silkenly over newly formed skin—time in incubation was coming to an end. In preperation, Mindbender flexed his limbs and muscles gently at first then much more rapidly with increasing vigor, often hitting the chamber walls. There was no danger of the glass shattering from such; it was thick enough to stop a high-powered bullet. No, the real danger will come in the change from breathing oxygenated liquid to actual air. All of the fluid had to clear the lungs before that first intake of real air, or otherwise he'd choke to death on the very thing that kept him alive for this long.

Now it started draining, through the vents he was standing over. He could feel the top of his bald head quickly emerging into the cool air being pumped into the chamber from above when he took that one last deep inhalation of liquid, holding it until he could feel the level pass his lips before forcing it all from his lungs in one forceful push. A quick gulp of air caused him to choke up the rest, but the trauma passed quickly--and as the last of the liquid drained past his feet, Mindbender was breathing deeply without any trouble.

When the glass rose, he stepped eagerly into the lab.


	2. Chapter 2

One.

The Cobra Assault Carrier silently swept across the waters of the Gulf towards them in such a manner that Stalker, standing at the starboard railing watching, went right into battle readiness, his swarthy muscular body moving out of reflex. But, nearing the Dom Delilegos, the carrier's pilot swiftly gained altitude and slowed for a landing on the immense research ship's stern landing pad—with Stalker keeping a wary eye on it all the way.

"_No 'Altercations'"_ General Colton directly told him_. "With things as bad as they presently are, the free world has no other choice but to accept Cobra's offer of a joint investigation into the Meteor Matter."_

Colton didn't look too please that day in his office at The Rock. Haggard from too many sleepless days with panicked politicians over the possibility of the world's oceans dying due to extraterrestrial contamination brought by a small meteor, the 'original' Joe looked far older than he was.

When it happened, it was snickered throughout The Rock that it was a real pity the Meteor couldn't have hit Cobra Island squarely instead of missing by a half-mile or so as it did. It would have made their job of dealing with the International criminal-terrorist organization much more easier.

Those jokes stopped two days later, when the first of what would later be continuous waves of deal sea creatures began washing up on shores around the Gulf and along Florida's east cost—killed by means unknown.

Somehow, someone somewhere supposed that the matter was caused by the Meteor that recently landed in the Gulf. It was just a supposition, not a solid fact in any case. But before it ever could be proven either way news writers or a few radical scientists with strong ecological ties latched onto the ideal. Plus there was nothing else readily available to explain what was happening also fuel the growing hysteria sweeping the globe.

But the tipping point came when it was made clear that scientists for years warned that such a occurrence, especially with all of the various sized asteroids that crossed Earth's orbit on a daily basis, was definitely possibility for such a cataclysmic disaster occurring to humanity at some future date. And religious leaders, taking their cue form the matter, pointed in their bibles to the part of the very last chapter where it clearly said that a start would fall from the sky 'making the waters bitter'.

And the Panic was born.

Over night, people everywhere found themselves facing a possibility of the World coming to an end. Some took their own lives, others packed up what they could and moved to areas far isolated from civilization. And there were those who simply did as they pleased. With everything coming to an end, why bother obeying the Law anymore.

But, there were those who fought off the panic. Scientists, a few politicians and private organizations, who formed themselves into a coherent force, spearheaded by the Exploratory Society, to combat the menace starting with locating the meteor in the Gulf, analyze it, and hopefully come up with a cure for the contamination it brought. Done privately, it didn't register much with the United Nations—who was bogged down in the attempt to form its own investigation team.

Then Cobra stepped into the picture.

No one was prepared for Cobra Commander's surprising entrance at the special meeting of the United Nations General Assembly with the even more surprising offer of cooperation towards solving the global crisis. Once the shock wore off, critics launched their attacks by stating that Cobra was exploiting the situation, which most likely was an 'experiment they lost control of, for their own benefit. And that by allowing them to 'help' would give them an advantage from which they could achieve their desired goal of world domination.

Only to have those arguments soundly rejected by people desperately hoping for a miracle that would save them and the world they lived.

Facing unwanted labeling and political marring for refusing, the U.N. overwhelmingly accepted Cobra's offer. And with the Exploratory Society's highly capable science ship already moving into the area, it was also overwhelmingly decided by the UN to include them as well--without ever asking them if they wanted to become apart of it. The same was true with the hastily written rules also imposed by the UN upon everyone concerned…

Especially the one rule that went: _neither participating group will bring on board any weapons of any kind. No altercations will be allowed between either participating group—if such occurs, the mission will be declared forfeit and the blame for such be placed upon the violators._

And to insure this, a contingent of United Nation officials would be onboard to enforce those rules.

Activity aboard the Dom Delilegos picked up after the Cobra Carrier landed on its aft deck pad. Equipment for unloading was quickly positioned around the boxy helicopter along with several of the Delilegos crewmembers that were ready to assist unloading the vehicle.

At the other end of the landing pad, under the awning of an overhead walkway near the main loading elevator was where the members of the Joe Team on board congregated to watch the arrival of the Cobra delegation—unarmed, and uncomfortable.

"It wouldn't surprise me if there was a assault force in those crates." Leatherneck, the aged, weather-beaten marine Master Sergeant and Joe reservist scowled at the crates being unloaded from the carrier under the watchfulness of several UN overseers.

"If they did, " Scarlett remarked, while brushing strands of red hair away from her eyes, "It would be open season on Cobra."

"I like being careful." Leatherneck grumbled back.

She really couldn't blame him. None of them could trust Cobra, in spite U.N. assurances on the matter. There could be banned weapons in those specially marked containers being unloaded, under the direction of Cobra Techno-Vipers, while UN Officials blissfully looked on. There were enough Cobra personnel for a small commando squad, against seven members of the G.I. Joe Team, all unarmed (a fact made sure of, right down to pocket knives, ballpoint pens and nail files), several research scientists and nearly two hundred crew members onboard the pride of the privately funded Exploratory Society-- a highly sophisticated giant catamaran research vessel, built from two reconditioned oil supertankers and was effectively the best self-contained laboratory afloat, that they could take over the ship without warning.

_Quite a haul if Cobra did try taking it over by force_, Scarlett reckoned, and, quite a lot of misery for them if it did. Not even Cobra's best lawyers, who could easily worm victory in hundreds of legal systems, could save the organization from what the World would do to him.

_So no, they wouldn't._ And Scarlett set the thought aside.

So, with arms folded across her chest while leaning her lithe body against a support, she watched the unloading of the Carrier hoping to catch a glimpse of Cobra's new Chief Scientist. With Dr. Mindbender dead, and vague reports to go on, this was the best way to see who the replacement would be--and get a good ideal of the kind of person he was.

As there were others as well watching the activity on the Pad. Standing some distance closer to the Cobra carrier was the Ship's Captain, Dr. Tori Yukinama; ever prim in her baggy blue utility jumpsuit and white canvas shoes, as her long straight black hair swayed ever so in the gulf breeze. Next to her, similarly attired with that ever-present clipboard in hand, was Yukinama's ever present assistant—a short bespeckeled young woman whose long fiery red hair was done in a promenade ponytail, known to them only as 'Ms. Candy'.

Together, or separately, they could easily dominate the modeling world with their looks and poise. However, it didn't take much to set Yukinama's hot temper off turning her into a nasty beast ready to pounce at the most minor of infractions. Usually after Ms. Candy reported them. It was understandable. As Captain, Yukinama was the Exploratory Society's ranking representative, and did not like the UN's intrusion into the matter, which was too important, in her loud words, to let bureaucrats with on ideal of what was going on deciding for themselves to take control of. Fight as she did, it was a loosing battle for the UN could just as easily take over the ship and run it themselves.

But it was obvious that she wasn't going to give them too much latitude, or free run of the ship. And that meant _everyone._

The Joe's on board did their best to keep any meetings with her especially to a bare minimal due to personal experiences earlier. What she'd do with Cobra was open to speculation, as she was already cold towards them and especially the U.N.

"Any sign of life yet? Stalker asked, coming up from behind his teammates.

"No one important yet." Scarlett replied without turning. "Mindbender wouldn't have kept people waiting this long.

"Probably why he's gone." Stalker grunted and adjusted his beret, which made Leatherneck smirk.

But soon enough there was a movement at the Carrier's door. A person in a stylish white suit with an equally stylish and color matching wide-brimmed Panama hat stepped formally from the carrier's side entrance.

"Look important enough?" Leatherneck off-handedly remarked.

Stalker examined the well-tailored man with due caution while Scarlett shifted herself to a standing posture.

"Might as well introduce ourselves." She remarked moving past her teammates, who slowly followed.

Yukinama was at the man already, speaking to him by the Carrier's nose, with Ms. Candy readily at her side. The closer the Joe's came, the more distinguished appearing the man became. He was a short, heavy-set, beetle-browed man with a broad face that lacked any wrinkles, in contrast to what could be seen of his dark hair which contained bands of silver-gray running through it. Clearly though, he knew how to wear a suit for it draped just perfectly across his wide frame with out a stress or wrinkle on it's perfect surface even has he moved. It was only as they moved closer did the Joe's notice the thin wire framed glasses the man wore.

And by then, he had noticed them.

"And this is the G. I. Joe contingent, arriving now?"

He sounded pleasant, excited in fact. Yukinama and Ms. Candy were caught off guard, which sadly Scarlett regretted not having a camera with her at the moment for their looks of surprised made a prized memory.

"Only part of them, Dr. Hydra." Yukinama stated, while quickly regaining her poise and composure. "The rest better be in their assigned areas."

"Better be." Hydra arched a bushy eyebrow.

There was more coming, but Yukinama cut him off. "Per stands of the Agreement, both Joe and Cobra groups will be kept under close watch while aboard this vessel. This excludes keeping both groups as separate as possible in redesigned areas to avoid any--."

She glanced between both groups sharply before finishing, "violent clashes."

Hydra nodded pleasantly as Stalker regarded him with quiet distaste. "That is in the Agreement, yes."

"Good. Because I also have both permission and plenty of rope to hang both groups off of the collapsible drilling boom should there be any violations of that agreement." Yukinama smiled tightly, while eyeing all of them warningly.

Stalker took the cue, and grudgingly responded by addressing Hydra directly "So, we have your assurance that no such activity that would violate the Agreement will occur from Cobra?"

"Just as I want assurance that no such activity will be forth coming from G. I. Joe." Hydra casually responded. "There's too much at stake to loose over petty squabbling."

Stalker kept himself in check.

"You have such assurances, Dr. Hydra." He calmly responded.

"And so, you have them from me." Hydra nodded back.

"Your quarters are ready, Doctor." Yukinama quickly stepped in. "My assistant will show you to them."

After saying his thanks, Dr. Hydra allowed himself to be lead away by the diminutive Ms. Candy. When they were far enough away, Yukinama rounded in on the Joe's.

"I figured on a confrontation happening, that's the other reason why I'm here, " she told Stalker very directly. And, after a moment of silence, a slight smile broke the icy expression on her face. "Glad to see something important managed to sink past all that thick bone that surrounds your brain."

A slight twitch of the eyes, and Stalker managed to catch himself before doing some rounding in or his own on Yukinama by giving her a good telling off. It wasn't the time, nor place, for such things, he told himself…. It would come later.

"At Eighteen hundred hours, there will be a dinner. You needn't dress." She continued. "But you'd better mind your manners, or things will come to a halt quite quickly."

"We'll be there." Stalker said evenly, keeping the beasts within at bay.

"Good." Yukinama crisply stated, then swiftly turned and left.

Stalker clenched his fists as one last surge of anger when through him.

'Easy now." Scarlett gently told him, touching his left arm.

"I'm fine," he gently told her.

"You're miserable like the rest of us." grumbled Leatherneck. "It the orders we have to work under."

While the aged Marine's words revealed his resentment towards the mission itself, Stalker easily agreed with the simple truth of it; having to go unarmed in the midst of their enemies was more than just simply insulting—it was wearing on their pride. But the orders they had follow, he knew, and they'd follow them as the trained soldiers they were—just as it was expected of them to do by their superiors.

But later, when it was over…

"Come on. " Stalker told them. "We'd better give Colton the word that Cobra's finally arrived."


	3. Chapter 3

Two.

From the special cellular phone in his hand, General Colton, G.I. Joe's Commanding Officer, and Duke, G. I. Joe's main Field Commander, could hear Stalker clearly in the special elevator they were heading upward in. The speed wasn't too bad, but the lights shining off the polished silverish-steel walls and flooring of the elevator's interior prompted the wearing of sunglasses due to the glare.

"That's about it." Stalker said. "Hydra's now with Dr. Mahoney and the rest of the U.N. Team. Lifeline will keep us informed of any further happenings."

"I want it made clear that you are to keep any meetings with the Cobra's to the barest minimum possible." Colton ordered. "I know it's a royal pain sitting out there with them, but keep to your orders. Hopefully, this won't last too much longer."

Something like a snort came over the cellular followed by Stalker's promise to follow orders.

After the sign-off, Colton collapsed the small phone and put it away inside his uniform jacket.

"Doesn't sound all hugs and kisses out there, does it?" Duke commented.

"They're sitting out there with hands tied by bureaucrats who are scared out of their minds." Colton knowingly frowned. "I wouldn't blame Stalker for being miserable out there, but we have our job to do—understand?"

Duke nodded. The special scrambler call, coming seven hours ago, had came as the only break in the doom and gloom that had swallowed them up for the past week.

Instead of another logistics meeting, it was orders for General Colton to head to the nearest Air Force Base where he was taken by supersonic fighter straight to Washington D.C., and from Dulles, by helicopter, straight to the Pentagon's sub-basement meeting room where for one whole hour he was lectured to by a C.I.A. official who didn't give her name, or remove her wraparound sunglasses, on the very reason why he was called there.

Kimball Clarke Wildman had emerged from very humble beginnings in Montana as a mere youth to take the highest honors that could be bestowed upon any student at Harvard, Cambridge, and Cal-Tech before the age of Twenty--an expert scientist in several fields of study, a surgeon of incredible talents, Wildman possess an astronomical intelligence within the body of a highly trained athlete.

"Twenty-two years ago, "The agent informed Hawk, "The Government of the United States secured his talents for several highly secretive projects that are still well beyond your security clearance to let alone know of—or that they were conducted."

Colton didn't bother pointing out to the Agent that she had just let slip the fact that such things _were_ occurring. He didn't really care at the time since his mind was on current matters, and he greatly resented the C.I.A. intruding on his time about something else. But he had been ordered to be there, and so he was.

"One year after that," The Agent droned on. "He vanishes. Foiling the most sophisticated security system ever devised then. And to this very day, it's never been figured out how he did it.

"The best agents we, as well as other organizations could field, could find a trace of him anywhere. It was as if he vanished into thin air…until this was taken from a Cobra courier."

Colton did his best to look interested as the Agent handed it to him.

**Wildman in New Orleans.**

**Tower Continental Hotel.**

**Ready to leave at any time.**

Colton remained silent on the matter, but he was quite convinced that the Agent had been at this for way too long for it just sounded too nutty to be real.

"That was a intercepted dispatch in route to Cobra Island." The Agent explained, and things became mildly interesting after that when the fact that The Dreadnoks, known agents of Cobra were seen around and about the Tower Continental as if scouting the area out.

"And?" Colton dryly remarked, keeping his irritation to a minimum--though his interest peaked at the mention of the Dreadnoks.

"The Agency managed to secure for you a suite at the Tower Continental to use as a base of operations in the matter of securing Wildman for the United States, and preventing Cobra from ever getting their hands on him." The Agent stated. "As it is stated in the briefing and in the file lying before you, Wildman is a highly trained individual who could be a boon for whomever has him in their grasp.

"And it's defiantly certain what he could do for Cobra, so that cannot be allowed to occur."

Cobra was G.I. Joe's concern, though Colton could easily point out the number of times agencies like the C.I.A. ran their own operations that nearly undermined several Joe-Missions. And lately, allowing Cobra reclaim it's Island over their opposition due to 'security considerations' and 'standard protocols'. But this was just a messenger, nobody real enough to tear into because after this meeting nobody would even acknowledge her existence afterward.

Or care.

Colton had no choice. He was in New Orleans by dawn of that same day. The Joe Team members he felt could be spared from dealing with any possible attack on the Dom Delilegos were already there waiting for the briefing. Like their commander, they weren't pleased with the new assignment. But being professionals they didn't complain about it either. The whole operation allowed Colton to bring in every Joe he could, including the reservists.

But getting to Wildman, or at least close enough to know if it really was him was a highly difficult matter.

Direct requests to speak with him were rebuffed by Hotel management, who claimed that their penthouse suites were empty. Attempts to enter the suites clandestinely were thwarted by the fact that they only accessible by special elevator that was not shown on the maps acquired by the C.I.A. And there was no way to even reach the shaft of the special elevator without heavy-duty power tools and explosives. The service elevators gave some hope, but they only went up the body of the hotel's namesake leaving anything bound for the penthouse suite having to take another set of service elevators that were computer locked and controlled to such a degree that not even Firewall and Hacker, the Joe's computer experts, could even begin attacking before having to evade hotel security.

By midmorning, a direct assault upon the penthouse suite was strongly being considered during the night's party on the Hotel's Mall. Colton was a patient man and soldier, but even the failures were putting a strain on him. Even worse, he started wondering whether or not Wildman was even up there at all. This possibility came from Duke himself, who knew of the matter quite vividly.

"They were sending agents all over the place looking for this guy." He explained, "It drove department heads absolutely crazy, and agents into early retirement. By the time I came on, only the real hardcore ever bothered continuing the case—and at risk of being considered 'Snipe Hunters' that wasted time and resources."

If they were chasing after the elusive bird, they wouldn't know until they entered the penthouse suite. With the whole operation being under the table, the risk of being caught kidnapping Wildman carried with it a price that was known to be too high for them all—or even if they did nothing at all.

Then at eleven that morning, Hotel Management casually called notifying Colton that Mr. Kimball Clarke Wildman would like to see him at one o'clock that very afternoon in the penthouse suite if it was convenient for him to do so. All he needed to do was to head down to the main lobby desk, identify himself to the clerks there and they'd do the rest.

It took a bit to recover from the shock, but the member of Management was very patient waiting on the other end for Colton's somewhat mumbled response while surrounded by shocked team members.

But Colton's brain finally fired up.

"Would it be possible for me to bring guests along?" he asked, more for the possibility that he could. He just didn't know how many, or weather they'd allow it.

The answer came after a minute of quiet agony. "You may bring one other person along."

Naturally, it was Duke, who, after the cellular radio was put away, asked, "If it's him, really him…How do you intend on keeping Cobra away from him?"

"Diplomacy." Colton simply answered. "Beyond that there isn't much else we can do while up there. He has rights, we must respect that…"

And, Colton knew, there were the _What if's._

What if Wildman refused to come back, ignored and rebuffed their warnings—even treated them with contempt, thought according to his profile there was little chance of that. But the Joes had no power to arrest and remove Wildman from the Suite. In it's rush, the Pentagon neglected to give the Joes such authority.

But then, _why bother? _The Government probably had a special team in place just to do exactly that, leaving the Joes to take the brunt of any legal actions that may arise—which definitely would, given Wildman's importance. It all made perfect sense to the General when he had the chance to really think about it.

Orders were orders. The Joes were just another combat team that could be used in any way the Pentagon believed would be best for the whole.

If it meant disavowing any knowledge of their actions, then so be it. It was the way things were done these days.

"I just hope it's him." Duke repeated as the elevator slowed to a stop.

The elevator doors opened with a loud _ding_, and the Joes were struck literally dumb more by 'who' it was standing there waiting.

Lisa Hawkern, international model and pin-up star, was the shining example of how sex appeal alone could propel someone into super stardom—talent not withstanding.

The skintight outfits she favored wearing, as she was before them, highlighted her amply large breasts, narrow waist and curvaceous legs that disappeared into thigh-high boots. She was wearing one right now, a solid one piece affair of shiny black latex bodysuit that didn't seem to have any noticeable zippers.

"Gentlemen," she purred with an enticing sweetness. "Please follow."

Hawkern pivoted slowly with that mischievous smile that sold millions of posters around the world, and started slinking off in a way no normal man could ignore.

Following was the easy part. Trying to keep in mind _'why'_ they were there while following such an attractive woman who appeared to have simply dipped herself into a vat of quick drying rubber instead of clothing was nearly impossible for Colton. As taciturn as he was, he'd rather be fighting it out with congressional members and overly secretive CIA personal than to loose his self control at such an important time. At least the trip ended quickly in a well-furnished and roomy cream-colored outer room with a high ceiling that was quite bright and airy, with one other person waiting in it.

They weren't too surprised by Donnie Ayers' appearance there, since the briefing file on Wildman contained the fact that the noted cybernetics quite prominently as a close friend, classmate and sometimes rival during their university days. The gruff-looking, heavy-set Ayers was rising up from a recliner, still wearing the brown belted boots, brown bell-bottom pants, the brown faded and wrinkled shirt with the sleeves rolled up passed the elbows, and that very battered brown wide-brimmed hat he was so fond of in the special picture taken the day before by the C.I.A. as he and Wildman drove around the city—though his long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and beard better trimmed.

It was obvious that he didn't want them around. But also obvious that he had no power to throw them out.

"I was expecting Dr. Wildman." Colton began, "He insisted that we'd be here at-"

"One o'clock." Ayers grumbled, "Yes, he told me."

"Kim's currently cleaning himself up after a extensive exercise period." Hawkern charmingly added, now seated on an exquisite leather couch against the oak paneled wall, casually swinging one leg over another.

"He should be out here in a few." Ayers added in a low voice.

"Thank you." Colton replied, not rising to the bait.

"Your welcome." Ayers grumbled back, before leaving through a door at the far end of the room.

Duke watched him go with a frown, while Colton kept himself in check.

"Don't let him worry you, General. Kim caught us all by surprise when he invited you both." Hawkern apologized. "Donnie hasn't gotten over it, but give him time."

Colton nodded and smiled, generally indicating that everything was all right while wondering how she became involved with Wildman. The file said nothing of her at all, but slips were a C.I.A. hallmark. Possibly why Wildman was able to evade them for twenty years.

"C'orse, I wonder why after all this time the Government is still interested in him?" Hawkern casually added, standing up from the couch. "Would either of you like a drink?"

Colton started chousing what to say carefully, but Duke started speaking,

"We're interested in where he was for the past twenty years. His disappearance caused quite a lot of concern. We'd like it all squared away."

"There is also the matter that he maybe in danger." Colton carefully added turning to face Hawkern, who was slightly bent over a mini-bar preparing glasses. In that outfit, in that pose, Hawkern would have tempted a lesser man's self-control. Colton had to fight to keep his, while Duke just grinned.

"Kim's always been in danger since birth." Hawkern easily stated, "If it wasn't one thing, then it was another." She finished with one glass and started on another. "It's the adventurer in him. Drove us all nuts, all the time."

"You've known him…that long?" Colton, his curiosity captured by that last statement, asked.

"Since childhood." Hawkern casually answered, smiling. "We're friends, you can say."

"I see. So, you would know about his plans concerning Cobra."

Colton dropped that in just to see what Hawkern would do, or at least say now, because there was no doubt that she knew, Ayers too. So he wasn't about to verbally trick them into revealing anything. He didn't feel like it with everything else going on.

Nor was he going to hold back anything.

"A person of Wildman's caliber being tied to a organized terrorist group like Cobra does raise a lot of concern for the all, Ms. Hawkern." Colton continued. "In fact, it could be considered treason if he did join."

"So you want him back on your side?" Hawkern casually responded, her smile fading.

"He may be biting off more than he can chew." Colton replied, "Cobra doesn't take too kindly to people leaving their organization."

Hawkern turned. No glasses were in her hands, nor was she as pleasant as before.

"Ever hear of free will, General?"

"Ever hear of enslavement, Ms. Hawkern."

"It's a matter of view." Said a controlled voice from behind. One that clearly couldn't be ignored under any circumstances.

Colton and Duke turned to face this new person, but they already figured out whom it was.

_Wildman._

He stood casually in the doorway, barefoot in denim bellbottom jeans and T-shirt with an incredibly flowing wild mane of dark hair that nearly touched the floor behind him. Apparently having just stepped out of the shower by the way his clothes clung to him a several places. But there was no mistake, even with his handsome face marred by scars, especially the one that ran from beneath his left eye across his nose to the bottom of his right jaw, the bronzed skin and the notable forehead with those gentle glittering eyes in the picture taken twenty years prior that glittered so reflectively outward…

No one else had eyes like that. No way to even mimic how they whirled and danced.

"Doctor Wildman?" Colton quietly asked.

Duke shifted behind him.

"Apparently that when you enter special governmental service, you're there permanently." Wildman grinned sheepishly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have bothered so much with trying to see me."

Ayers appeared from behind Wildman, just as contemptuous as before.

"You're unique." Colton simply said.

"Really? " Wildman seemed a little surprised. "I'd figured it would have something to do with leaving Warlock in the way I did."

"That's part of it." Colton nodded.

"I did try resigning." Wildman quietly explained, with a shrug. "But they wouldn't allow it. So I left."

Colton frowned slightly. Wildman's nonchalant attitude was quite surprising in light of what he'd been told about the super-scientist, which had made him out to be both polite and formal.

Even reasonable.

"Do you believe Cobra will allow you to do the same thing?"

Wildman didn't respond quickly. He just stood there regarding the Joes with a neutral expression of a poker player studying their cards.

It wasn't a hopeful sign, but Colton knew he'd scored a hit—in more ways than one.

"As I said, I tried resigning from the Warlock factuality." Wildman began evenly, "But they wouldn't allow me to leave, not for anything. They tried patriotism at first, then twisting my arm when I resisted their efforts of persuasion."

He gazed directly into Colton's face with those glittering eyes, which unnerved the battle hardened general so. "And they supported the 'Free World'. So I find it quite difficult that Cobra could be that bad when such terrorism of the scientific community freely occurs in the name of _preserving freedom_."

The meaning of Wildman's statement didn't occur to Colton quickly. The general was preparing his argument to convince him to return, but the lack of sleep reeked havoc with that attempted. All that kept him sharp at that moment was the knowledge of what Cobra Commander would do to Wildman once the scientist was in his grasp.

But he couldn't really say what would occur if he was able to convince Wildman to return. The Government wanted the man badly, and Colton could only hope they wouldn't mistreat him…

And that's when the realization hit him.

"You're going to—"

"As soon as I can." Wildman cut in, shifting his stance and his voice into a more defiant tone. " I have no desire to be enslaved for the sake of the free world a second time. In fact, I hope to remake the world into a better place—"

"But Cobra—" Colton started.

"I'm not going back with you." Wildman simply stated. "I will not be your possession again."

Colton just stood, doing his best not to loose his composure.

"You're insane." Duke finally breathed.

"Is that the excuse you'll use to imprison me?" Wildman simply asked him. "You already have me followed and spied upon, so it's just a matter of time—isn't it?"

Diplomacy be dammed, Colton realized, and then fixed Wildman a look of warning. "If you try to even go to Cobra, you, and your friends, will be imprisoned for aiding and abetting a terrorist organization—"

"And you don't consider yourselves to be _enslavers_, trapping the unwary into a lifetime of unconditional servitude—making then sacrifice freedom, friends, family…loved ones…just to stay in power?" Wildman coolly steamrolled over them. "All I was to the Generals who ran Warlock was a means to a end. A _tool_ they could use, and nothing more. They cared only more for my abilities than for me. I have no intention of ever living that lifestyle again!"

They rode the elevator down mostly in silence.

Both were fit to burst. Professionalism kept it in, but they were no more human than anyone else--just a little more controlled.

But still human, nonetheless.

"We're going to do it, aren't we?" Duke quietly asked.

Colton didn't say anything at first. Visions of Wildman's cool defiance tore at him while he struggled to regain composure. If he opened his mouth at that moment to reply, it would be a yell that would come out.

And Duke kept quiet, waiting. Letting his commander answer in time.

"I want operational scenarios on preventing Wildman from ever reaching Cobra hands." Colton finally spoke in a rasp. "Even up to pulling him off of Cobra Island, or where ever they'd take him."

The response wasn't surprising. With the orders signed and sealed by the people who did so, failure meant the probable disbandment of the Joes. Those within the Government and Military who so desired to see the team swept away could quickly spin a political excuse to the media. Wildman or an outright violation of the U.N. Pact by attacking Cobra, Duke could see it all very plainly. The Joes were in a vice that was tightening fast.

But then, when were they not?

"Give me thirty minutes, and you'll have plans to look at, General." Duke smiled.

Though his back was to him, he knew Colton was smiling too.

They saw it all on the suite's wall mounted TV. When the Joes left the elevator, Hawkern turned it off, chiming, "That's all folks."

But Wildman still gazed at the now blank screen, his glittering eyes moist and expression sad.

"Kim," Hawkern gently spoke noticing his stance, "There wasn't much choice in this."

"Wildman's reaction was to shrink back with a deeper frown. "Things went badly from the start. There's no excuse for what I said."

Hawkern gave him a sympathetic look, then turned to Ayers.

"You're acting could have been better, Donnie."

"Who says I was acting?" Ayers loudly questioned. "And how did they get wind of us being here? This was strictly between Sec-Nine and Cobra, and there were assurances of no leaks at either end."

"Perhaps in the middle then." Hawkern offered.

"It doesn't matter now." Wildman suddenly cut in. "They're here, and we need to deal with them. Any luck with their command center?"

"Room Service gets stopped at the door." Ayers answered. "The Joes take the carts in themselves, but only to the living room. We can hear it all when they lounge, nothing more.

"But, they did something to the Master Bedroom that's jacking up all the wires, we can't listen in or see what's going on in there."

"That's a violation of the Room Policy." Hawkern smiled. "Consider eviction?"

"There's no point in tipping our hand any further." Wildman told her. "Besides, we know where they're at. I don't want to loose that advantage, especially now. We're cutting things so close, we can't afford risk."

"Nineteen hours and standing, yes we know." Ayers remarked. "Everything's finally in place on the Delilegos."

"How about contacting the Dreadnoks to speed things up here?" Hawkern put in hopefully.

"I wish." Wildman sighed. "I don't call them, they call me."

Frowning, he checked the watch that he now wore on his right wrist. A massive thing requiring a larger than normal wristband to keep it in place and a larger than normal face that contained several different ways of telling time, Hawkern and Ayers wore similar ones as well.

"Two hours." He muttered. "That's when they will call."

"And that's when we'll tell them." Hawkern nodded.

"Which will be painful for the Joes." Ayers grimaced.

"They aren't totally inept and can fend for themselves." Wildman coolly stated, then after a slight pause added, "Besides there are bigger worries to deal with. What about Devronique?"

"Putting the finishing touches on his parade." Ayers simply said. "By this time tomorrow, he'll be here in all his glory."

"And everything's out the window." Hawkern remarked.

Wildman paused for the moment, noting the worried looks on his friends' faces.

"We're keen as long as we keep the edge." He told them, "It'll be to the wire, but we can pull it off—ruining Devronique's plans for now. So don't dwell on possibilities, I need you both on edge and ready to move when the time comes."

"Like old days?" Hawkern quietly asked.

"Yes." Wildman nodded smiling. "But with more marbles to win."

Return to Top


	4. Chapter 4

Three.

The Dinner, held in the Ship's main auditorium, went well considering who those were seated on either side of the room were--while United Nations officials, those presently on board and those being broadcasted on the large video monitor at the head of the room, spoke to them all.

Hydra kept himself in perfect check, smiling and nodding like a idiot to the never-ending parade of officials from around the world giving their heartfelt thanks and praise to them for setting aside their differences and working together in these trying times.

But, when the officials staff members, other politicians, and then apparently people on the street were being allowed the same chance without limit, the toll on them all was beginning to take effect.

Behind him, Hydra could hear the Tele-Viper gently snore. And it wouldn't surprise him if the rest were in a similar state. Even the Joes, as stalwart as they were, were giving up on staying awake. Yukinama's pleasant pose was becoming more and more strained, while Ms. Candy's head just rolled to the side and stayed there with eyes closed.

Which gave Hydra the opportunity he had hoped for. As the parade of the self-indulgent turned everyone's brains to mush, was the perfect opportunity for him to establish control amongst the Joes. So with a careful glance around him, Hydra slowly slipped from his seat while drawing out from an inside jacket pocket a rather ornate and innocent appearing fashionable ballpoint pen.

Only, it really wasn't just that. It was his own version of Mindbender's Brainwave Scrambler, far smaller but more freely usable and innocuous than his ornate tiepin, which concealed a Scrambler of it's own, could ever be.

Holding it carefully after setting it to the proper strength, he slowly made his way past the now sleeping members of Cobra and members of the ship's crew to where the Joes were, It didn't take too much coming up from behind them, one-by-one, to whisper the commands into their ears while using the pen on them And none of them even realized that he was even there.

In minutes, Hydra was done and in his seat just in time for the last moments of the video transmission. When it was over, the lights came back on, and his loud clapping woke everyone up in the room.

When a City grows, much of the land surrounding it is altered according to need.

In the case of New Orleans, the combination of saltwater marsh and low-lying land had been claimed from the Gulf through a extensive series of dykes and levees, which also served to protect the land from any attempt by the Gulf to reclaim it.

On what was once five square miles of swampland, the Tower Continental Hotel/Convention Center was built.

Five square miles of stable asphalt and within these two-and-a-half square miles of the Hotel/Convention Center complex itself. Built in less than a year with labor unions dogging it every step of the way on a variety of issues, namely the use of non-union labor during the construction, the Tower Continentals each used the same distinctive architectural design; a medieval fortress style main body similar in design to a starburst with a fifty story hexagon tower rising from it's center capped at the top by the five floor octagonal Penthouse suite. The massive parking lot was served by several easy access electric trams running on ground level tracks that would submerge near the main building to avoid traffic snarls in the Parking lot, and with the building by smaller enclosed people-mover trams that ran at regular intervals in enclosed Plexiglas tubes with stops every eight of a mile with in the Mall portion.

The Mall itself was a wonder to behold. Three stories above ground and two below, the Mall was the base and foundation of the Tower portion containing a wide variety of stores, offices, two multi-screen theaters and two massive multi-level convention centers decorated with a wide variety of dwarf trees, bushes, and flowering plants of all types along its walkways with complex skylights allowing the natural light of the Sun into all levels of the Mall and Convention Centers, giving the entire structure the air of relaxation for the world weary. What was not readily known was the operations of each Tower Continental were directly controlled through it's very own computer mainframe, that was highly protected from both physical and electronic attack and watched over by well trained technicians around the clock.

Especially that particular night, where every aspect of the Mall was crowed with partiers, all closely watched and monitored.

There were others not attending the Mardi Grais style _Hope for the Future_ bash as well. Two of them, General Colton and Psyche-Out, the Joes' psychological warfare expert, were locked away in the twelfth floor suite that was their command center while watching Wildman pace quietly amongst the partiers enjoying themselves.

"Doesn't seem to be enjoying himself." Psyche-Out observed, as Wildman apparently kept to himself, while keeping a watch for something.

"Any movement from the Dreadnoks?" Colton asked, eyes not moving from the screen.

Psyche-Out checked a smaller monitor to the side. "Still in the French Quarter with all the other merrymakers."

_Odd_, Colton frowned, _would have figured_…

"Certain?"

"As of five minutes ago."

Psyche-Out pointed at the screen that indicated such, the text message complete with the time stamp that was only five minutes old.

"They'll be contacting us again in another five—or."

"Or if there's a change." Colton nodded. He knew the orders given to the special agents sent there, along with the descriptions of the Dreadnok members known to be in the City.

But why were they so far away? Zartan didn't run the Dreadnoks as a loose organization. It was much tighter than most high-security installations, otherwise it would have been wiped out long ago.

Other Cobra agents or the special agents were fooled, were the only two things that came to Colton's mind.

And he worried.

In the upper floor of the Penthouse suite was a concealed hanger and storage for small craft that would have bedazzled anyone looking at them—vehicles so special they could never be identified by country or manufacturer. Or by any known organization for that matter.

The jet engined Osprey, poised on the raiseable platform seemed identifiable enough. But instead of rotors mounted on the tips of it's stubby wings, there were pods containing two moderately sized jet engines and two more engines attached to the body near the front and just behind the high mounted cockpit. It bore no origin markings or any identifying symbols on its deep green body, but carried several wing mounted weapon pods in clusters of three per mounting pylon. In the shadow of it's left wing, Lisa Hawkern sat in a simple metal folding chair before a laptop perched on a simple metal folding table, which gave the same view of Wildman the Joes had below in it's center, surrounded by montages of smaller video feeds in their separate screens.

Still in her skin hugging bodysuit from earlier, now augmented with the addition of padded vestments that covered her complete torso, hips and thighs, and shoulders down to the forearms. Padded boots that went past the knee and a pair of gauntlets rested near the laptop, along with a dual shoulder holster that carried large automatic pistols of futuristic design with plenty of clips and a second dual holster rig across her hips that carried two large clip fed semi-automatic shotgun pistols of equally odd design in cross-draw fashion.

The view showed Wildman standing at the third floor railing, looking downward at the bottom floor, while smaller screens showed various aspects of the party from different locations. Those at the bottom contained views of the underground service garages. If Cobra was to come, they figured, it would be through them.

So far, nothing.

Now came the worst part, the waiting.

There should have been other options, but there was no time. A covert team was the best means of dealing with the matter, but that had been vetoed over the fear of making a already disastrous mess into a monumentally monstrous one. There were Section-Nine's spies already within Cobra's ranks on Cobra Island, who could be compromised if such a last minute operation occurred. They were the ones who signaled the facts that lead to these hours. Wildman's return couldn't have come at a better time.

It was now Cobra's turn to move things to the next level, which Hawkern wished they'd hurry up and do.

So much so that she didn't notice Ayers leave the Osprey, or hear him walk up from behind. That is until he gently asked, "Anything? " which made her jump and gasp out of fright—nearly knocking the laptop from the table.

"Sorry, sorry." Ayers quickly retreated.

"_Luckily I'm dry!"_ She snapped back. _"I'd hate to haft to change at a time like this!"_

Hawkern fell back in the seat, already regretting the told of voice she used but still shaking from the rush.

_Man, we're wonderful_, she thought. _Jumping at everything_.

She also recalled the fact that it had been a while since they last did something like this, and the edge was still a little dull in spite keeping in shape. But when she felt Ayers gently slip his arms around her shoulders and nuzzle close to her left ear, all that worry was chased away by knowing he'd still had confidence in her.

"Don't worry." He gently whispered. "We're together. And TOM's all packed away in the Osprey, monitoring as well."

Hawkern closed her eyes with a sigh.

And for the moment wished they both were far, far away.

Wildman was becoming impatient.

Colton found it interesting to watch. The file described Wildman has having "incredible resolve and potent inner strength". Yet there he was sweeping the area with his glittering eyes and moving around every few moments looking for something while clutching the rail.

Now he was tapping his feet with a frown of impatience forming.

_Quite interesting._ Colton considered. _Perhaps we did scare them off._

He was feeling quite triumphant at this when the apartments door was violently kicked free from its frame by a heavy booted foot. Neither of them thought to have any weapons readily loaded. But both turned in time to see a beer can sized cylinder rotating slowly as it arched downward to a landing before them, with the red snake-head emblem of Cobra on it's body.

Then it ruptured with a loud bang and bright white flash...

Generally speaking, the City of New Orleans is notably famous for one sole thing: Mardi Grais.

There are other more historic and common facts that make the city even more famous, but it's ability to always throw the most extravagant parties around with little rhyme or reason pushed that fact to the very top of any list.

A birthday, throw a party. New car, throw a party.

New House, wife, job, television, radio. Party, Party, Party, Party, Party.

End of the World?

Throw one big massive Mother of all parties, and at the same time throw all the rules of proper behavior right out the window—which is what most of New Orleans was doing since the start of the 'Madness'. Fires raged in populated, unpopulated, and in industrial districts. Gangs warred with each other in orgies of bloody violence. People discovered religion.

And, People partied.

The one occurring in the Tower Continental's grand mall was for the more well to do that had more confidence in the fact that a solution for the disaster could be found before too much occurred. But nonetheless, it was a costumed affair that left the Mall awashed in gaudiness, loud noise, and jammed with people. Wildman looked down upon it all in silent wonder, quietly agreeing that human nature was a clearly unpredictable beast in spite science's best efforts to explain it.

But it did keep his mind open.

For the past two hours, he had been wondering about waiting for word or anything from the Cobra operatives coming to take him away.

So far, nothing.

Patience was a matter his father taught him long and hard on as a child. He knew its aspects by heart, so if it ever rose up to take control it could be quickly squelched with no loss of time.

But with a sigh, he reflected; _If only he could see me now_.

There was too much to handle at such shot notice, even for him. And Cobra dragging its feet wasn't helping matters any.

"Excuse me?"

The white haired young woman with mismatched eyes and light chocolate skin, wearing a powder-blue evening gown was quite startled when Wildman quickly spun about to face her.

Wildman was simply lost for words.

"I'm sorry. "She quickly said, "If you wanted to be left alone."

"No—no. It's not that, I." Wildman stammered. She was British, his mind told him instantly from the sound of her accent. Unfortunately, it was stuck for several moments until he could free it from the shock. All the while she stood there, child like, expecting to be punished for her trespass.

_She's beautiful_, he considered.

"I'm, sorry…. I was expecting someone." He slowly told her, forcing his mind to start working again. "They're terribly late…are you alright?"

She blinked at him, still fearful. Still expecting.

"I am sorry I frightened you like that." Wildman apologized earnestly.

He was focused on her so much that the world around them didn't matter. A leggy, properly proportioned woman who was quite modest with jewelry and make-up, and her gown was a simple wrap around affair that buttoned on her right hip though the skirt portion was slit almost up the entire length of her right leg exposing a teasing view of it in powder-blue pantyhose.

It left Wildman wondering…

"Actually," she began to smile, "I should be the one to apologize. It's a very bad habit of mine to startle people. Parents have been getting on me about it since I was a child."

_She is beautiful_, Wildman reflected. And then it occurred to him, _she might be it._

"You did say 'excuse me'." He smiled back.

The scene continued on the laptop's screen, with both Wildman and the white haired woman becoming more relaxed with each passing moment. While on the bottom side of the screen, images from the lower service areas were revealing the arrival of the Dreadnoks in all their rowdy glory.

Things were coming to a head, Hawkern realized.

Zipping closed his battered brown leather jacket, Ayers noticed.

"Problems?" he asked.

She didn't turn away form the screen.

"No." Hawkern said instead. "Just stand-by."

Her name was Angelica, and she freely gave it out along with what her parents called her; Angel.

"It's fitting" Wildman gently smiled, to which she blushed quite considerably.

No longer were they standing by the railing but walking along the top most level, along the part where business' had their offices and were the partier's were becoming more and more sparse. She was leading the way with Wildman dutifully following, because he was more than sure that she was the Cobra agent coming for him.

And partially because Angel was so captivating. He hadn't felt this attracted in to anyone in years.

"So, you see, I came to New Orleans for the excitement. "She continued on after a while, while moving past partiers seated around a small table, "I've never been to this city before, and with the way things are…well, I felt I should see it before the World ends."

"Are you so certain that it will?" Wildman casually smiled.

"It's like this everywhere I've been." She dejectedly sighed. "I once believed that people had more resolve than this when facing a certain end."

"People can be surprising." Wildman knowingly replied, "It depends on where their beliefs lie."

By then, they were the only ones on that portion of balcony.

Angel then gave Wildman a very coy look. "Indeed they are, Doctor."

Wildman's reply was an arched eyebrow and rye smile. Cobra hadn't been clear on how they intended to spirit him away from New Orleans, all they gave him was a place to meet with no exact time when it was to occur.

"I was waiting two hours—"

"Fine! Next time I haft to go through a crowd like that, I'll cut my way through with a assault rifle." Angel agitatedly motioned to the mall. "I even got felt-up a few times along the way…but now that I'm here."

She gently took him by the arm, "There's no need to wait any longer."

"That's nice." Wildman smiled back.

"Kim's made contact!" Hawkern announced.

"Hopefully." Ayers remarked over her shoulder. "It could be the Joes or someone else."

Hawkern already knew that possibility and her finely manicured fingernails tapped out commands on the keyboard at lightning speed, setting up diversions just incase, while gazing at the screen.

"Zartan's coming up the service elevator, alone. He'll be on floor in moments.

512 is open all the WA—_HEY!!"_

The left monitor showed several combat suited men, each wearing "FBI" on the front of their their flack vests, pouring out of a office Wildman and the woman just passed and started swarming around them with weapons ready. But Wildman moved far faster, instantly sweeping the woman up in his arms just ahead of the agents grasp.

Hawkern quickly activated the fire suppression cannons from the laptop, surprising the agents with a frothy onslaught of fire retardant that knocked them all over the balcony as they struggled to gain their footing in the slippery mess.

"Move.move."Ayers urged towards the fleeing Wildman on the screen, heading in a zigzagging crouch with the woman wiggling franticly in his arms.

Then Room 512's door opened.

Zartan appeared in its doorway, looked, and then drew out a silenced automatic. Wildman cut to the left as the Dreadnok leader fired at the struggling agents attempting to catch him, then at Duke who burst thru the crowds. Then quickly stepped aside as Wildman rushed through the door.

With a balanced spin, he kicked the door closed just as Zartan was reaching for it.

"Zartan?" Wildman asked.

"Doctor Wildman." Zartan replied, "Follow me please."

The room was sparely furnished with bare desks and chairs, lit only by security lights which mandatory stayed on which made it easy to follow the Dreadnok's leader's muscular form all the way through the office to the service passage where a large freight elevator waited with doors open. When inside, did Wildman finally allowed Angel to stand as Zartan started the elevator.

"That was eventful." He told her, once the elevator started.

"Quite eventful." Zartan agreed, then slowly turned to face them.

The silenced automatic pointed right at Angel. "I must admit you have a excellent taste in women, but the bad luck to snag this one." He grinned under his cowl-obscured face.

Angel stiffened.

Wildman wondered, _did I make a mistake_?

"I'm afraid this little bird is too well connected with our enemies." Zartan continued. "She'll haft to go."

There wasn't too much doubt what Zartan intended to do, but Wildman wasn't about to let the Dreadnok leader kill her. So he quickly moved between the Dreadnok and Angel, facing her.

"You're not with Cobra?" He quietly asked her.

"Doctor!" rankled Zartan.

Angel glared at him.

"But I was so certain you were." Wildman's glittering eyes appeared on the verge of tears, 'you acted just so—"

"Get a clue, Doctor." Angel growled. "We're trying to get you out of Cobra's hands."

"And I have no time for this!" Zartan exclaimed, then rushed forward putting a hand and Wildman's right shoulder to drag him out of the way.

Suddenly, Zartan felt Wildman's elbow crashing into his chest followed by an equally vicious blow to his crotch, which inspire being padded for such an instances Zartan still collapsed to the floor in intense pain with both his hands covering the injury.

Moving quickly, Wildman brought out a small flat case from the inside of his jacket, took out a tiny hypodermic syringe from it which he then pressed against Zartan's neck. With a slight sigh, the Dreadnok leader was still.

"He dead?" Angel asked, blinking in surprise.

"No, but he'll sleep for a day." Wildman quietly replied, putting the syringe back in the case before putting it back into his jacket.

"Mind giving yourself a dose, then?"

Wildman didn't appear surprised to find Angel holding Zartan's gun on him when he turned.

"It'll make you more manageable, if you don't mind." She smiled.

"Sadly, I do." He frowned back. "Because soon we'll be arriving in a service basement where the rest his kind waiting. It wouldn't look too good for you standing over the both of us with that gun, so hide it somewhere and stay close to me."

"This is going to end right here and now, Doctor." Angel firmly stood, aiming right at Wildman's head.

"If it does, it's the end of the world—for real."

A bell chimed behind them. The indicator on the wall showed they were now in the underground garage.

Wildman directly told her. "Your choice."

"You can help me, and make it easy on yourself." She gently told him.

Wildman considered things.

And with surprising speed, snatched the pistol from Angel's hand before she'd had a chance to react.

"I must to get to Cobra Island." He gently said, rising to his feet before the started girl. "Its for Humanities sake."

Angel glared at him with vile indignity.

Another ding, another floor.

"That wasn't a meteor that crashed in the Gulf." Wildman told her. "It was… something else."

"Really?" she angrily mocked him. "What was it suppose to be? A Spaceship?"

Wildman just looked at her.

"You're very intuitive." He calmly told her.

Angel just glared.

Another ding, another floor passed.

"I did not know who you really were." Wildman explained hurriedly to her. "I assumed that you were with Cobra, and that's my fault without any denial."

"La-La." She sarcastically mocked.

"You're really not helping your cause much." He countered, which made her fume.

He then turned and quickly lifted the unconscious Dreadnok leader, laying him across his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Angel stepped back, not knowing what to expect from him. Once Zartan was firmly held, Wildman paused, and gazed his glittering eyes of his right at her angry ones.

"Your choice, my responsibility." He quietly told her. "Now please don't cause me any trouble."

There was at the moment the urge to say a few very unladylike things, but what Wildman told her pretty much killed them off.

"_You're really not helping your cause much."_ The words stung, but brought her sensibilities back. Thought she was still angry.

"What assurances do I have that you wont betray me?" she directly asked.

Another ding, one more floor to go.

He appeared to be caught amongst many things, eyes moving like a wild animal caged for the first time in its life. Then without any hesitation Wildman handed Zartan's pistol back to her.

She just stared at it, shocked into absolute silence from which her brain struggled to restart.

"Trust me or you don't." Wildman simply told her.

When her brain finally restarted, she just looked at him as if her were insane.

"You're mad." Angel uttered.

"Insanity is what you make of it." He directly told her. "Trust me and take the pistol, or take the pistol and fight it out with whomever came with Zartan."

"You're trusting me to shoot you in the back!"

Again, Wildman simply said, "I'm trusting you not to."

_This is madness_, Angel thought, _absolute madness_. She could follow orders or go with Wildman. Not much of a choice was the third option to kill Wildman just to prevent him from falling into Cobra's hands. And there he was giving her the gun to do it with!

This was some sort of game he was playing with her, an utterly insane game.

But there were other things he mentioned, nothing fitted together at all.

_That wasn't a Meteor that crashed into the Gulf…..It was something else._

It made her think. He could be lying, then again….

The elevator was slowing down to its last stop. And there was Wildman holding a gun out for her to take…

_Right, fine_, she decided,

"Don't lie to me or your dead! Is that clear!?" She barked at him when taking Zartan's pistol.

Wildman quietly nodded.

The elevator came to a slow halt, and the doors opened with a 'ding'.

For safety's sake, General Colton had set up a check in schedule where all the teams at the party could check in for updates and indicate they were still active.

Five minutes ago, Duke called in received nothing in reply. After deducing it wasn't an equipment failure, he activated the alert and started with his own team towards Wildman. At this point, it didn't matter if the scientist's civil liberties were going to be grossly violated, orders were orders. Wildman wasn't going to Cobra, _period_.

But getting through the partiers, even if it was only one floor and so many feet, proved daunting. Forests and the deepest jungles weren't this thick, nor did the plant life fight back and curse him at points like this crowd did as he forced his way through to finally reach the balcony where Wildman was. The pile of struggling FBI agents covered in fire retardant being shot at by Zartan was a very bad sign. Duke could see the leering evil face of the Dreadnok as he fired away with his silenced pistol while Wildman made a run for the open door with someone in his arms, as party goers simply watched. One good shove put him right into the action, drawing his pistol at the same time. Only he wasn't fast enough getting it into play. Zartan saw him burst through, and aimed for him.

He could have dodged, then fired back at the Dreadnok Leader most defiantly hitting him. But, not at the cost of a civilian life. So Duke stood and took the bullet in the chest, where his body armor stopped it. But even still, it felt like hell, even after falling down.

And when he started back up, the door was closed. Wildman was gone.

Duke felt like screaming.

Many floors above, Hawkern announced, "That's it, Kim's on his way!"

"Give him a way of getting out." Ayers told her. "Lock the rest out."

She nodded and issued the commands as he turned back to the Osprey, yelling, "Fire up TOM!"

The craft came to life with a while that grew steadily. Hawkern issued the last of the commands and shut the laptop down as she carried with her to the Osprey. Ayers tossed the table and seat off of the platform as it began rising, then joined her in the craft.

Ripper chugged down the Grape Soda, then after a few moments let loose with a monstrous belch that echoed throughout the underground service area. Not simply satisfied with that bit of showmanship, the Dreadnok then aimed the empty soda bottle at a nearby utility van scoring a direct hit on the front passenger side window shattering it.

"Bulls eye!!" The ragged looking biker triumphantly shouted with raised fists.

"Lucky shot." Buzzer sourly commented. "Watch this throw."

There's nothing worse than the members of a vicious motorcycle gang with nothing to do. Especially, if it was the Dreadnoks. Hailing from every vile part of Australia, these motley bikers were among Cobra's more 'specialized' groups in its army-- specializing largely in outright mayhem, creating havoc, terror thru intimidation and wonton destruction. What made them truly frightening was the fact they'd do these very things anyway if they weren't apart of Cobra. Only under Zartan's tight control were they ever considered _controllable_.

Bored and alone was another matter.

While Zartan took Thrasher up to get Wildman, the Dreadnoks quickly found something to do while waiting, namely beating the FBI Agents they surprised upon their arrival again. But that didn't last too long; the agents became unconscious all too quickly despite Torch's attempts to revive them through kicks and stomps on various parts of their bodies. They left him at that while collecting various souvenirs of the affair; namely wallets, guns, assorted jewelry, and sunglasses and various articles of clothing. Ripper became attacked to an agent's hat, which he currently wore at a rakish angle while Buzzer and Torch wore other agents' ties like bandanas. And now they were targeting cars with empty bottles of Grape Soda just to pass the time.

They could have robbed the cars, but there really wasn't anything of interest in them.

As Buzzer prepared to throw his empty, the service elevator doors behind him opened and out raced Wildman, carrying Zartan and Angel close behind.

"_We gotta move now!!"_ Wildman yelled, _"They're close behind!!"_

The Dreadnok's were started, Buzzer dropped the bottle he was going to throw and the sight of Zartan unconscious really shocked them. For the moment, none of them moved at all.

Then Ripper noticed Angel.

"Hey, luvvy, what'd say." He approached with an arm outstretched to place around her.

And suddenly had an unconscious Zartan shoved at him, whom he just barely caught.

"_There's no time for that!"_ Wildman glared at the startled Dreadnok while pressing his watch. _"We must leave now!"_

As unimaginative as they were, Wildman knew he couldn't keep them off balance for long. So from the remote in his oversized watch, he summoned his car. A monstrous roar soon filled the garage, and from out of the darkness, a low slung, customized 1930's style crimson and chrome touring car roared up quickly to them and spun about a full one-hundred eighty degrees before coming to a halt—driverless.

Wildman quietly smiled, that helped buy more time and kept the bikers off balance while quickly pushed Angel along to the front left passenger seat. Then he practically leaped over the Roadster's hood to the driver's side, pausing before climbing in.

The Dreadnoks were still standing there, dazed.

"_Will you get moving!_ " Wildman angrily shouted at them. "_I need to know where to go!!"_

That broke the spell, and they came in a clambering rush towards the car. Zartan was deposited unceremoniously in the rear seat, and those who couldn't squeeze in (or couldn't bully their others) hopped onto the car's running boards. When he figured all was ready, Wildman put the car in gear and started away.

"Hey! 'era comes Thrasher!" Torch yelled.

Wildman didn't see the Dreadnok driver run up, he was too busy trying to keep his car from stalling out. But something was unceremoniously dumped in the rear seat, much to the dismay of Buzzer back there, and soon Thrasher was standing next to Wildman—eying the car with childish delight.

"Nice car. I'm driving." He delightfully squeaked, until Torch grabbed him rudely from behind and pulled him on to the running board.

"Go!"

And they raced away.

Things had been dull up until ten minutes ago for Gung-ho, Alpine, Dusty and Bazooka, when Duke put them on alert. Now the Joes sat on edge in a non-descript sedan parked outside the Mall waiting for further word for Duke.

Most were patient, keeping himself in ready. Unfortunately, it was getting to Gung-ho. The big Marine was never much for waiting when something bad was happening somewhere he could get to quickly, at least for a long as Alpine knew him.

But when the mountaineer noticed how tightly Gung-ho was gripping the steering wheel in time with a gradually increasing roar, he knew it was time for a talk.

"Hey, you're going to break that sterr---_DREADNOKS!!_"

All in the car snapped to in time to see several Dreadnoks clinging for dear life to a low-slung car.

"A-bout time!" thundered Gung-ho with a wide grin. "I was getting' tired of sittin'."

With a twist of it's ignition key, the sedan roared to life and leaped boldly when Gung-ho slammed the accelerator down…

And managed to bash three cars before leaving the parking lot, swearing all the way.

"_What in hell are you people doing here!_ _This is a Federal Operation, not a Military one!!"_

The FBI Team leader was a well-groomed college kid, covered from head to toe with fire retardant, who latched onto Duke with a vengeance. _"You are in direct violation of Federal Statues by being here and in the interference of several federal officers while they were performing their duties!!"_

Duke could say a few things, namely that the Fed was so far off in his assertions that he may as well be standing on the far side of the Moon. Anything else would have blistered the skin right off the kid, but not ease the sting of Wildman getting away.

"_I will have you and your Team court marshaled on those charges, and hung out to dry as example!!!"_

_Yea right_, Duke knew he and his team were safe from anything the Feds could bring against them, at least this one anyway. There were bigger things to worry about.

And that's when his radio started vibrating.

"Excuse me." He told the red faced Fed and walked away while drawing out his radio.

It was Alpine, and he was yelling, _"The Dreadnoks are headed away in some fancy wheels, Team Four is pursuing!"_

"Is Wildman with them?" Duke couldn't conceal his hope, not after what happened.

"_It looks like he's driving the car, Duke."_ Alpine called back.

"That's Wildman? _Give me that!!_" The FBI Team leader came up from behind, attempting to take the radio away from Duke by force. But Duke quickly shifted the radio to his other hand, grabbed the rude agent's arm and promptly flipped him right into an unoccupied party table.

"_What's going on?"_ Alpine wondered from the radio.

"Fed Tossing." Duke snapped back into his radio. "Stay on Wildman's case, back up's on its way!"

The agent moaned lying on the table, but Duke had more important things to do.

They weren't aware of anyone following them, until Buzzer, who was looking back at the moment, shouted, " Joes!"

The majority turned to look. Wildman just shifted the car into a higher gear.

"Gung-ho and that mountain climber!" Ripper shouted over the wind. "Maybe more!"

"Hang on!" Wildman yelled.

Built into the back of the roadster's steering wheel were several small function buttons that when pressed enabled the car to perform various feats. Wildman pressed the right one, then turned the car at high speed onto another street. By rights, the Roadster should have flipped on its side and rolled or skidded right into a building due to the uneven weight on its suspension. Instead, it took the turn smoothly with little skidding or sliding. The Joes' weren't so lucky; their sedan was modified to handle high-speed chases but only in the hands of a proficient driver. Gung-ho was anything but in such cases, and he struggled to keep up with the Roadster.

Try as he may, Wildman and the Dreadnoks keep getting farther and farther away at each intersection until finally they were gone.

And all Gung-ho could do was curse, loudly, and smash his fist against the dashboard in frustration.

Wildman kept the turns up for a few more blocks until satisfied that the Joes were no longer able to keep up, and slowed back down much to the relief of everyone else with him.

"Good." Buzzer slurred, looking a little green. "They're …gone."

As they continued through the city, encounters with numerous groups of people carrying on as if insane, without care from those around them occurred. Sometimes, Wildman was able to quickly get past these groups with little difficulty or altercation.

And sometimes some wild partiers managed to climb upon the Roadster while it moved past them and attack it's occupants with maddened delight while others tried pulling the Dreadnoks and things from the car while it was moving past. But more often than not there were groups who threw assorted things at the car or attacking it with an assortment of items ranging from the ridiculous to bricks, metal pipes, and baseball bats when it was close enough.

The ones with guns were an especially frightening concern. Shooting at anything that moved within their line of sight. Though their shots went wild for the most part, there were a few that whizzed past their heads or dented the Roadster's body.

But at one intersection, the crowd was absolutely violent and wildly destroying everything in sight. Wildman hit the breaks and the Roadster skidded to a halt just before this crowd. The crowd, delighted at the prospect of something nice and new to smash up with people inside they could hurt all they want, started chasing the car as Wildman drove it quickly backwards away from them.

The Dreadnoks shot at the faster ones with their weapons, but the situation was becoming impossible. Wildman grappled the center of the steering wheel and pulled it quickly towards him.

The Roadster shot up straight in the air, surprising both the crowd and the Dreadnoks hanging on then flew away from the wild crowd who chased them until they couldn't keep up with the vehicle.

When far away, Wildman landed the Roadster and roared off.

"_Blimey!"_ exclaimed Thrasher, looking back.

"_Their's was a crazy lot for shore_." Torch darkly commented, fitting his flamer back in his belt.

Wildman didn't say a thing. But he did get them all quickly away from the area

Angel was trying her best not to attract attention to the fact that her gown was ripped apart. Quietly hoping that the Dreadnoks didn't start leering at her while quickly tied up the top of her gown in the hope that it would stay up, she leaned forward with her hands moving quickly until done, then leaned back to check herself with a small make-up mirror.

In it, way in the background, a car turned onto the street they were on. Then, it started speeding up to them.

And the closer it came, the more familiar it became…

She stood up in the car, looking back to be sure.

The act caught Buzzers attention, and he glanced back. "Holy Bloody!!" he screamed. _"It's the Joes!!"_

Alpine would have called in their failure to catch Wildman in spite the fact that he hated being the bearer of bad news, especially now and to Duke. He was about to when Dusty came up with an ideal.

"They were turning at every intersection, right, left, right, left. Why not mimic the action."

"What for, they're long gone by now." Alpine shot back.

"Not if they think they eluded us." Dusty pointed out. "Then, they would be unsuspecting and moving slowly."

"Slow enough to catch! Great ideal!!" Gung-ho exclaimed.

Which was better than giving Duke bad news, so Alpine when along with it as did Bazooka with a 'why not' shrug.

After a couple if intersections, they arrived just in time to see the Roadster float and fly away from the street mob and discreetly chose to drive parallel around the Mob until they could pounce in surprise. But now, when they were nearly upon the Roadster, they were noticed and the car started speeding off.

"_Oh no you don't!"_ growled Gung-ho. He slammed his hand onto a lever beneath the dashboard, and suddenly the Sedan jumped forward almost rear-ending the Roadster.

"Nitrous Oxide booster." The big marine announced, "We're goin' ta stay on their tail this time!"

But Wildman had a few more tricks to elude them, one of which came by darting down a side street, full of people seated at café tables. The Joes feared the worse, but watched in amazement as the Roadster suddenly tipped on to two wheels without any visible means to do so, causing Torch and Thrasher to quickly shift their stand on the running board to avoid rubbing against the asphalt and hitting the tables. Instead, it was the Joes who plowed through the make shift café sending metal tables flying and people running.

The Roadster settled back down, before darting down another street. Gung-ho still followed, and nearly wiped out a motorcycle traffic cop who had started chasing the Roadster. The Bike was a total loss, but it's radio worked.

Both cars had police scanners, and herd the call clearly. "This is Unit 037. Two maniacs smashed my bike, and are presently chasing each other down Highland. You can't miss them!!"

"Great going, Gung-ho." Dusty moaned.

"Hey! I thought there were no Cops out tonight!" Ripper exclaimed.

Wildman pressed another secret button causing an electronic map to be displayed on the windshield.

"Units 033 and 095 heading on Whites Street to intercept." Cracked the scanner.

"Nice." chortled Thrasher, looking at the display.

Wildman turned the car onto Whites Street. The Police, one following the other in their cars with lights flashing and sirens wailing, were caught by surprise by Wildman's maneuvers and quickly eluded them when they tried blocking his path. Nor did such a move stop Gung-ho. He simply plowed the sedan right past the first police car driving it into the second one, leaving one headlight working and the steering a mess but holding it's own in the chase with Wildman.

The Officers weren't too badly hurt, but they vented. Their anger was quite clear and definite over the scanners, as were the responses of their fellows to their plight. After two blocks, the Police caught up to them in a swarm of autos and motorcycles and began shooting with vengeance--but not before the Dreadnoks started shooting at them first.

Gung-ho took stock of the situation and snarled an oath and drove one police into a parked car with the sedan, then caused two more to crash by fooling one into stopping quickly.

"_What are you doing!!"_ Alpine yelled in a much higher than normal voice.

"_Getting Wildman! "_ Barked Gung-ho, _"And letting nothing stand in my way."_

The Police around Wildman suffered a gentler fate as another button released a colorless gas that once in the engines of the police cars began solidifying within the air intakes, leaving them to fall back wheezing and heaving before finally dying in the middle of the street inform of their fellows.

Gung-ho and others were able to skirt around this by driving up on the sidewalk, until the Dreadnoks noticed and started shooting at them. The sedan the Joes were in took the worse, but its body armoring and bulletproof glass kept them safe as the lethal hail blew apart tires and shattered windshields of police cars killing many of their occupants before Wildman made another sharp turn onto a boulevard.

Now Gung-ho grinned with devilish delight.

For before them in a intersection was a massive float in the shape of a old-fashioned brass bed with large stairs going up the sides and a giant banner across the top that read, _the Church of the Perpetually Indulgent_, inviting the parade goers to 'one last fling' on their giant bed with no waiting--anyone could join at anytime. The parade was stopped for the time being so the giant bed quite effectively blocked the whole intersection with the large crowd gathered around it, and Wildman barreling right towards it.

They were trapped.

But Wildman kept on going faster and faster.

"_He's going to jump it!"_ Dusty yelled.

"Naw, the stairs ain't wide enough!" Gung-ho yelled back, as he dropped speed. No need crashing into the car, though it would be fun to smash up the Dreadnoks Wildman was wanted alive.

But Wildman still wasn't stopping.

Instead, he pulled upwardly on the steering wheel as before, and the Roadster suddenly shot upward, as if hitting an invisible ramp, neatly clearing the giant float but catching the banner across it's front grille as it flew over--much to the surprise of those on the float--to a hard bounce of a landing on the other side.

"How did—"Alpine began in utter disbelief, before Gung-ho swore his most vicious oaths and jammed the accelerator to the floor. Their car made it halfway up the floats' stairs before its weight defeated the floats' structural support and exploded out through the other side in a shower of float parts, padding and people in various stages of undress, soaring far down the boulevard to a violent landing.

And that was it. The Sedan was built to take punishment, but not Gung-ho's driving. The tires all exploded from the stress of landing, wrecking any chance at control, body parts came free, the front windshield popped completely out of it's place, and a horrible rattling sound came from the engine. The breaks still worked, and were used. But still the sedan slid right into the side of a police car, bullying it right into several parked cars.

Surprisingly of the four Joes in the now destroyed car, only Gung-ho was reasonably intact. Dusty and Bazooka were unconscious in the back seat, and Alpine was still seated upright in the front passenger seat with his goggles strung stupidly across his face frozen in a silent scream, and didn't acknowledge his surroundings no matter how hard Gung-ho punched him in the arm.

A second police car came up in a screeching stop, it's occupants quickly getting out. One rushed to the wrecked patrol car while the other advanced on Gung-ho, who was now taking his anger out of the sedan.

And Wildman was getting away.

Then he noticed the Police Car sitting near by.

The sedan's door wouldn't open, so with a shove Gung-ho literally freed it from the frame, knocking over the second cop with it.

"Sorry about that! But I need to use your car—_Government business!!"_ Gung-ho shouted at the downed cop he sprinted to the patrol car slid into its driver's seat and roared off after Wildman.

Try as he may, and when he could, Wildman couldn't pick up any indication that there was a Police Helicopter following them. But being too busy driving operating the scanner fell on to Angel, who could partially understand how the highly elaborate device, no slimmer than a pencil box, worked. Being hunched over as she was did have a benefit, it kept her protected from most of the violence around them as police car and motorcycle crashed by either Wildman's driving or Dreadnok assault.

The raised side windows of the Roadster were already deeply pitted from the variety of calibers fired by the police in the running battle as well as flying debris from their vehicles as they were blown up or crashed.

A head of them, down the boulevard, was something looking like a giant wall completely blocking the road. And according to what was coming over the Scanner, the Police wanted them to head into it.

Wildman figured the odds and then made his decision.

"_Get into the Car!!"_ Wildman yelled at the Dreadnoks, and activated it's retractable top.

What Wildman believed were New Orleans Police were actually a motley assortment of National Guard volunteers and various security personnel firms around the city. Since a goodly number of regular police didn't report for duty for some reason or another, the City was quite grateful for their help. So much so that they allowed them the right to do all that they believed necessary to maintain order in the current situation.

End of the World or not, the City Fathers _wanted _New Orleans to be a fun, exciting, _and a_ _very orderly place_.

And right from the start, these groups chose the tactic of outright suppression of any activities that could erupt into more illegal situations that they happened to run across. So far, by the means of brute force, several parties where 'shut down' that night and it wasn't even nine o'clock. And there were many more to deal with throughout the City.

All of that changed when Wildman and the Dreadnoks came to their attention.

The Volunteers listened in on their radios to the ongoing chase, hearing accident after accident quite vividly and quite determinedly vowed to bring those joy riders to an absolute stop. To achieve this, they blocked off an intersection arranging their vehicles in such a manner that there was no way the car could escape down any side streets, alleys or the sidewalk. And in the middle of the block, three city dump trucks formed a final barrier wall backed up by several transit busses. Finally, in staggered pockets on either side of the street, more volunteers set them selves in place with weapons ready to strafe the vehicle should it try to escape. Weather or not the occupants survived wasn't much of a concern.

And ten minutes after hearing about the mishap at the parade, the call came by radio; "He's headed right for you!!"

Excited, the volunteers set themselves in place. Soon, they could see the headlights of the approaching vehicles followed by the roar of their engines.

The ranking leader of the volunteers gave the order to ready weapons; not really knowing the matter was moot at this point as the pursuers started dropping back to form a second barrier behind the Roadster.

And when that car entered the intersection, the order to fire was given. Bullets slammed into its front, sides, windows and rear with devastating force….

Only to be flung away likewise.

None of those shooting were really aware of that, but the survivors could only say that the car's headlights became incredibly bright then the main barricade blew up in a massive ball of flame. The gas tanks of the closest vehicles exploded soon afterward from the blast wave and heat. Men, on fire, ran screaming every which way until their stores of munitions exploded killing and maiming even more of their fellows by shots directly or when the shots struck gas tanks setting them off as well.

And through this conflagration, the Roadster roared on.

Those who herded the car into this trap could only stare in disbelief, which wasn't shattered by a single police car roaring past.

Gung-ho didn't need to guess; past experiences with the Dreadnoks told him all her needed to know about the fiery mess he just managed to race thru. But leaving his radio behind in the wrecked sedan, that was grating on him. Duke had given each team the means for direct contact with him, and Gung-ho realized much to his aggravation that he'd forgotten to take his along. The dressing down over the matter, first from Duke then Colton, would be quite punishing.

And far worse if Wildman escaped.

For the next ten minutes, Gung-Ho was in a very desperate state of mind before catching sight of them near the Harbor retracting the top of the Roadster back, causing anxiety to be replaced by sheer delight. Now all he needed to do was to call in.

And all there was was the police radio.

There were several back-up options available to the Joes, though it was preferred that they'd have their own radios and not use anyone else's. Police radios were one such avenue, but considered risky since the local police considered their radio frequencies _their_ domain. And there was the chance of inadvertently involving innocent bystanders, local government, the police and the news media in an operation they had no part in knowing about.

But Gung-ho didn't know about the Command Center back at the Tower Continental, and there was no other available means of communication.

"General Colton! _Come in General Colton!!"_

It wasn't easy for a man of his sort to worry, but someone should have answered by now. Gung-ho kept at it even as he chased Wildman through the Harbor area, until several sharp turns caused the Marine to drop the microphone just to steer the car and remain in pursuit. Then one more turn put Wildman on pier, with no way of getting away unless he planned on driving into the bay or flying--again.

For moments, it appeared to Gung-ho that Wildman was going for a dip. Then near the end of the pier, the Roadster spun around and charged towards Gung-ho with its high beams suddenly shining right at him.

Then they were gone, leaving spots before Gung-ho's eyes. And the end of the pier fast approaching before it registered in his mind.

Wildman landed the Roadster on the dock and was out before it rolled to a stop.

The Police car dove into the bay with a spectacular pluming splash that lasted for seconds before it all collapsed back into the Bay.

He wanted to run out to the end, to see if the pursuer managed to escape…

"That hopefully is that!" Buzzer remarked. "Come on back, Doc, we're almost home."

_The Mission._ Wildman forced himself to relax, to put away the desire he had, and quietly return to the driver's seat of his car.

"Tis' only a short distance now." Buzzer continued, as Wildman started the car.

While feeling Angel's heated stare boring right into him.


	5. Chapter 5

Four.

It was ten minutes past the call in; both Stalker and Scarlett were worried.

"Make a call." She told him.

"Can't. Not fifteen minutes yet." He replied looking at his watch, "Colton's orders."

And so they waited. If not for the check in procedure, the majority of the Joes on the Dom Delilegos wouldn't have much to do. Wet-Suit, Deep Six and Lifeline all had major parts to play in the survey, Dial-Tone helped maintain the communications linkage to the outside world. The rest either kept close eye on what was going on board the ship, or took over monitoring the radio when Dial-Tone either slept or took turns watching.

Scarlett looked at her watch, and then nodded.

Stalker took the radio's microphone in hand. "This is DDJoe phoning home. Repeat—this is DDJoe phoning home."

They waited. Five seconds, ten, twenty…thirty…one minute.

Still nothing.

"Power failure?" Scarlett was perplexed.

"Dial-Tone and Sparks built this toy with plenty of talent." Stalker frowned, examining the radio's monitors. "Personally, I believe nothing's wrong with it."

"But there's no radio hiss, no static." Scarlett pointed out. "It's just '_dead_'."

"I know." Stalker quietly said, putting the microphone down. "Get Dial-Tone."

The cabin they were in was a decent sized three-room affair, in which each of the rooms could be sealed off from the other as well as the outside corridor. Off duty, Dial Tone, along with Leatherneck, would be sleeping in the second room.

When she entered the room, there were six empty bunks.

"_Stalker!!"_

He was at her side in an instant, and just as fast saw what she'd seen, his rough dark face hardening.

"That does it!" he hissed through clenched teeth, then stormed towards the main door with Scarlett right behind. Hang the UN; Stalker raged within, he wanted _answers_.

Instead, when he grabbed the opening latch, he received a powerful electrical jolt searing his hand and throwing him back across the room at Scarlett.

Tori Yukinama received word directly over her personalized ear radio directly from Lisa Hawkern that Wildman was finally taken by Cobra and she, Donnie and TOM were on their way to them. She acknowledged in her usual cold way, but within she was relieved—and mildly revolted.

Relieved that Wildman was able to connect with Cobra, so finally _that_ part of the waiting was over. But seriously revolted at having to deal with Hawkern, whom she considered a person of foppish attitude, outrageous manners, who possess no morals to speak of—as evident by her constant display of flesh and lewd behavior which society considered 'entertainment. But necessity dictated the conversation, and so things _had_ to be tolerated because she and her husband were close friends of Wildman.

Fortunately, lengthy conversations didn't need to be.

That, up to this point, had been the only blight she'd needed to concern herself with.

She was seated in the Command Chair, sipping tea while watching the long-range radar display of the immediate area when Ms. Candy approached with her computer clipboard in hand.

"Commander, would you examine these readings?"

Candy was tight and to the point, which to Yukinama meant there was a problem though her little assistant wasn't one to voice suspicions.

"I hope this isn't serious." Yukinama said setting aside her tea while taking the computer.

"These reading's involve Doctor Hydra." Candy straightforwardly revealed. "They were taken a short time ago."

The board came alive when prompted, revealing measurements of electronic low frequency waves around the Cobra representative while in the ships lab in comparison to those already deployed to sedate the Joe and Cobra Teams. Yukinama knew every detail of the comparison. And picked out what was wrong instantly; something was countering acting their ELF…

Hydra was the source.

"Where is he?" Yukinama asked, rising from the seat, heart already racing.

"He was in Main Lab when I last looked." Candy answered. "I've got four S-F's—"

The ship suddenly lurched and shook to the sound of somebody hitting a kettledrum with all their might, repeatedly. Alarms begin going off and the control room's panic board, showing diagrams of the Delilegos from all angles, went red instantly in several areas around the bows and hulls--and even in the Main Laboratory below them. Instantly every controller in the center started assessing the damage and heading off a full-fledged disaster by activating watertight bulkheads and fire suppression systems.

"I want assessments from Damage Control _now!_" Yukinama's screamed.

There were more explosions more explosions, very close by. The lights dimmed in the control center and several of the boards went dead. Yukinama was quite literally beside herself trying to figure out what was going on, and more importantly how it could have happened. Joes and Cobra weren't stupid enough to start a fight, she knew, too much was one the line for both groups….

_Hydra_.

It hit with the force of a violent storm.

_But why? _She wondered.

The Main Lab was situated in the lower half of the Delilego's Command Structure that was located between the two giant bows. The elevator from the command deck was dead, so the stairs, jammed with both security and engineering personal with fire fighting and rescue equipment became the only means of getting down there. Worse, several security doors refused to take their codes tying up any effort to reach the damaged areas had to have their locks overridden by manual intervention so they could be opened by hand.

_Why Hydra?_ Yukinama kept wondering as a means of keeping her anxieties in check. _This isn't Cobra; they wouldn't know where everything was_…

But at every bulkhead door the facts began to slowly dawn on her, forming a picture that should have been considered right from the start. No matter how incredible it all was, there was that one last piece to be needed.

And that, she feared, would be found in Main Lab. After the final security door was forced aside, she, Candy, and several technical and medical personal entered the smoked filled lab in a rush.

The floor was littered with shattered glass and chemicals. Worktables and various equipment were scattered everywhere. The techs went instantly to work on the air system while the meds started on the injured, one of which was LifeLine, the Joe's Medic. His red jumpsuit shredded in several places and coated with his own blood, while he was trying to help a severely injured lab technician. The two Special Forces personal that Candy had on Hydra were dead. Yukinama didn't need to check their torn apart bodies too closely. Medics on the floor were tending to a third, while a fourth sat against a ruined cabinet with a dazed expression on his face.

Yukinama knelt next to him.

"Hydra?"

The S-F didn't do anything for several moments before slowly shaking his head.

"Tech Viper…"The S-F slowly croaked, "Suicided...at his command..."

It was enough; Yukinama quickly stood and shouted "Section off the search the ship for Hydra! Set Persuaders on 'Counter' setting—I want him alive!! And check on the guests!!"

It took Stalker a full five full minutes to reorganize himself from the shock, though the sudden explosions and accompanying alarms did help speed things along.

"Peace Mission my as--" he grumbled while getting up, ignoring his stinging hand.

"Hang on, I've got a ideal." Scarlett interrupted, and then kicked over one of the collapsible cots. The compartments they had were only designed to sleep two, so they brought the ancient canvas and wood cots along to make due. Stalker caught on to what she was doing, and came up with a better ideal of his own.

"Wait a minute." He told her while rising for the floor. The radio set was situated on a simple table with heavy legs. After taking the set off the table, Stalker smashed it with a solid kick. The legs he wanted weren't damaged at all.

"Have fun?" Scarlett joked.

"Just a warm up for the talk I'll be having with Dr. Yukinama." Stalker grinned back.

They then took up positions on either side of the door latch, and began to move it with the chair legs to the open position--amid the smells of burning wood that came from where the improvised pry-bars touched the Latch. After several minutes of pushing the latch lever up, then was a click and the door opened slightly on it's own. After a sharp prod from Scarlett's boot it opened all the way quite quickly to a corridor full of flashing lights and sounding alarms.

"Now what do we do for a encore?" She openly wondered.

"Do you have your mini-radio? " Stalker asked. She did, indicating so by tapping her left vest pocket.

"Good." Stalker nodded to her. "Try getting topside and alert Colton to what's going on."

"And what are you going to do?" Scarlett asked, visibly concerned.

"Like I said earlier, " Stalker grinned back, "I'm going to have a talk with Dr. Yukinama."

Separating after that, and quickly became lost in the confusion as ship's crew rushed past carrying equipment, and then the injured.

That concerned him; any sort of attack on the ship would be an act of war. Yet all he saw of the injured were ship's crewmembers, no injured Cobra's or Joes'. Taking a side corridor, he started over what he'd prepared to say to Yukinama when he ran into Dr. Hydra.

"Out for a stroll?" quipped the Cobra Scientist.

Hydra hadn't changed from earlier, still in his fashionable white suit and Panama hat he eyed the surrounding corridor with distaste.

"Rather droll don't you think." he frowned.

Stalker glared at the man. "If you don't mind, I have somewhere I'd like to be? " he growled.

Hydra arched an eyebrow. "Really? Command Center?"

"If she's there." Stalker flatly replied.

"Oh she is." Hydra's head bobbed excitedly. "With all of this going on, where else would she be?"

Stalker couldn't help but frown, the Cobra scientist was starting to get on his nerves.

"She's quite desperate you see." Hydra went on. "And this disaster has really put a block on her plans."

"Her plans?" Stalker slowly replied.

"Why yes." Cooed the scientist, "They very ones I've ruined by making both the Cobra's and your teammates plant explosives around this ship, which I must say has made my duties much, much easier."

That caught Stalker utterly unawares. _What was he talking about? Us, sabotaging this mission for him? What …is….going……_

But he never got the chance to ask. Overcome by the power of Hydra's tie-pin Persuader, he was now standing there with a dull sheen to his eyes, which made Hydra chuckle, "Shocks help speed things along. You, I figured would give me the most trouble in this operation. But then, Cobra Commander wasn't any better. And I'd say that the two of you are highly intelligent humans.

"However, since you are on your way to the Command Center, there is something I'd like you to do for me…"

Yukinama didn't expect Hydra to be found quickly, if at all onboard. She had the feeling that he had plenty of time to do what he wanted and leave before the first explosions occurred. And left behind a mess for them.

At the explosion sites, the remains of Cobra troopers were found…others were stopped before they could use their explosives, namely the Joes, before they could join them…all were under hypnotic suggestion, but how could Hydra do it, she wondered.

_Unless…_and that chilled her.

Damage reports were coming in. The automatic systems and quick action from the Command Center kept the ship from sinking, but with the right pontoon half flooded in major sections and main propulsion all gone, the Delilegos was a sitting duck for the U.N. to come investigate.

And worse, was the special equipment they were planning to use. Most of it rendered useless by seawater contamination, or small explosives planted in the right spot.

As the Captain, she'd be the one to explain to Lord Hawkern what happened—in person.

_We didn't cover EVERY possibility…Damn! _She winced.

The last clip left out for her pistol she put into place, and primed it for use before slipping it into it's shoulder holster and slid the heavy knives into theirs before leaving her cabin…

Just as Lifeline was ready to knock on that same door. The surprise caught them both, but Yukinama quickly recovered with an icy, "Excuse me" before quickly making her way past the Joe medic.

By nature, Lifeline was a pacifist. Unusual amongst the rough-and–tumble members of the Joe Team since he'd always refused to defend himself either physically or with a weapon, no matter the situation. But none on the Team could refute the fact that no matter how nasty things got in battle, he'd always be there tending to their wounds even in the heaviest of the fighting.

He could also be quite hard to brush off, as Yukinama found out. For he was following her closely down the corridor.

"Two crewmembers dead, one in critical condition, and one more drifting in and out of conscience. And then the Cobra's—"

"Hydra did it." She said without turning or breaking her stride. "We're looking for him now."

"Yea, I can see that." Lifeline remarked. "I can also see weaponry that's not suppose to be on board this ship. Where's the UN Officials, by the way? Aren't they supposed to be in charge?"

Yukinama's blood started to boil; though she kept the fact to herself it wouldn't take too much more from the Joe to really get her mad. The Command Center was near, she could duck into it and he'd haft to stay outside by terms of the agreement.

The door to it was just right there, and open.

"And now, I can't even find my team—"

"Greetings Doctor, "And there was Stalker, standing in the Command Center as large as life with a huge grin on his face…

Holding a demolition charge in his hand.

Scarlett figured five minutes to the top of the powerful antenna nest, at the Delilegos' stern, initially. It was the highest place on the ship, unless the balloon line was launched, and it would do for the call she had to make.

But the sudden activity by heavily armed crewmembers added time to that estimate. And like Lifeline, she too was astounded by the armory on board. Clearly, there was more going on here that warranted notifying the outside. Perhaps the whole UN as well, that however needed to wait until she could make the call—after the crewmembers swept through the area she was hiding in.

That break came with a shout that sent the armed members running out of the area, much to her relief. After a cautious look around she left her hiding spot and was up the latter to the nest in a instant, then deployed the antenna of her radio to start transmitting.

"Sea Dog, this is DD…Sea Dog, this is DD, come in Sea Dog."

No answer.

Keeping her cool was necessary, panic had no place. Scarlett gave herself some time to calm down before trying again.

"Sea Dog, this is DD…Sea Dog, this is DD…"

Nothing still.

And she kept at it, even as the searchers drew nearer.

"Stalker?" Lifeline wondered, "What is going on?" The Medic was astounded at his Commander's behavior.

"Security Operation, Lifeline. You'll be briefed when it's concluded." Stalker causally told the astonished Lifeline. "But for now, please disarm Doctor Yukinama and then help the others secure this vessel until help arrives."

The whole thing made Lifeline's head swim, and Yukinama furious enough to curse loudly though self control just barely kept that from occurring.

"Now wait a minute." Lifeline said, after getting some measure of control, "The UN agreement specifically forbids any—"

"The orders came _from_ the UN, Lifeline." Stalker understandingly replied. "I know it's a shock, but there's more going on here than just what's between the Joes and Cobra…Much more."

He then gave Yukinama a very stern glare, "Industrial exploitation, I believe the term is."

Yukinama glared right back.

Stalker continued. "The Exploratory Society planned from the start to exploit the properties of the meteor for it's own benefit, then sell it as a weapon to the highest bidder. And since they'd have the cure as well, they'd be making money hand over fist."

Lifeline just stood, taking it all in as the shock wore away.

"There was no time for a briefing." Stalker explained. "We had to act quickly."

"When did the call come in?"

Stalker was momentarily surprised by the Medic's question.

Out of the corner of her eye, Yukinama noted the motioning of an operator's fingers without revealing it.

"Twenty-five minutes ago, why?" Stalker replied, then looked the Medic's torn and ripped red jumpsuit over. "Your radio must have been damaged."

"Yea, it was." Lifeline nodded back. "So I went back to the Tomahawk for a spare one."

Stalker nodded

"That was _thirty minutes_ ago, after they'd bandaged me up." Lifeline revealed, and then fixed Stalker a stare. "Were the explosions the UN's ideal as well?"

Stalker appeared hurt by the question. "That was Cobra's doing—"

"Committing suicide is not what they willingly do." Lifeline clearly replied. "I've seen the bodies. There wasn't a B.A.T. amongst them."

Stalker stared blankly at him.

"Where did you get that bomb from your holding?" Lifeline then asked.

Stalker appeared too stunned to speak. Then slowly he looked at his hands, at the device he held.

He couldn't fathom why, but that was no ordinance that he knew of.

Then from behind, Ms. Candy moved quickly pressing a Tazer against the back of Stalker's thigh that made his whole body lock up as operators leaped out of their seats to disarm him, then the bomb itself.

Lifeline frowned.

When Ms. Candy turned the device off, Stalker swayed right into waiting arms that promptly moved him to an unused chair.

As Lifeline moved to check him Yukinama said, "He'll be fine in a hour or two."

Lifeline paused, gazing back, not trusting.

"I'm sorry." Yukinama told him.

And at that moment, Scarlett was brought into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Five.

The small boat was simple to handle, and soon Dr. Hydra was far away from the damaged Dom Delilegos with a smile of smug self-satisfaction on his fleshy face. There would be too much damage for Hawkern's forces to sort out to launch an effective attack upon Cobra Island, even if all of the 'suicide bombers' didn't reach their targets before exploding the various other things he left behind in the ship's systems should tie things up even more tightly that they already were. It was always prudent to have a degree of latitude for failure in such operations; Hydra always prided himself on being careful so to avoid the unexpected.

But the Unexpected had it's own cleaver way of striking back, and did so in the form of Kimball Clarke Wildman.

His sudden appearance was the utmost in unexpected trouble for Hydra, and the possibility of tremendous wealth, as promised by Devronique, if he were killed—on top of further ruining Hawkern's plans.

Of course, _how_ would depend on Cobra Commander's state of mind upon meeting Wildman. But it was not the time to speculate on what could occur…

It was time to act while the advantage remained.

Buzzer directed Wildman to decrepit warehouse, and waited while the Dreadnok quickly spoke into the radio he had.

"This is Buzzer. We have the goods. And a little extra."

Angel's face took on a bitter gaze.

And a moment later, an unmistakable voice was soon heard. "Good, very good. You've certainly earned your pay."

Cobra Commander. Wildman's grip tightened on the steering wheel. Otherwise, there were no other outward signs of tension from him. The large doors before them parted in the middle silently, betraying it else's wise unused appearance.

"When it's wide enough, you can drive right in." Buzzer instructed Wildman, who nodded and drove into the darkness when the opportunity was there. Once past the threshold, the doors began to close and Wildman brought the Roadster to a soft halt.

When the doors closed did the lights come on, revealing a squad of Crimson Guardsmen with weapons leveled upon them.

And finally, from out of the shadows to the left, Cobra Commander stepped into view.

"Ah! Doctor Wildman, I presume."

Cobra's leader was wearing his mirrored faced battle helmet and deep blue Prussian-style military field uniform, and he walked towards them ram-rod straight with a perfect stride reaching Wildman just as he stepped out of his car with a gloved hand outstretched towards him.

"For a while, even I had doubts that you'd make it." Cobra Commander confessed as he shook hands with Wildman. "New Orleans is not all together safe these days."

"Certainly." Wildman smiled, shaking the Commander's hand.

Cobra Commander nodded. "I was sure you'd feel that way, Doctor. This car you arrived in fits the description of one involved in a good deal of mayhem and destruction this night."

Torch just grinned like a loon at that. "It was be-ute-te-full." He gushed. "Lots of Cops getting' smashed and everthin'"

Cobra Commander, and others, ignored the Dreadnok.

"I figured on trouble." Wildman simply told the Commander.

"And definitely got it." Angel injected as she walked around the front of the car to stop just behind Wildman.

If Cobra Commander was surprised at Angel's appearance, the only way to tell was through the movement of his body since his face was completely hidden by the mirrored frontage of his helmet.

"This is Angel. "Wildman quickly introduced her. "I'm sorry about the inconvenience this may—"

"Oh there's no inconvenience at all, Doctor. Not at all." cooed Cobra Commander. He stepped forward to properly greet Angel, then stopped with an exclamation.

"Just—_what!"_

Both Wildman and Angel turned in time to see what had set the Commander off.

The Dreadnoks had already pulled their unconscious leader from the car's rear seat and were pulling another unconscious person from the seat, much to Buzzer's relief…

It was General Colton, quite worse for wear.

"We picked em' up from the mess we made of the Joey's command center." Thrasher grinned. "Thought he'd make a wonderful guest."

"Is he dead?" Cobra Commander asked.

The Dreadnok's paused. "Would you like him to be?" Buzzer asked. "It wouldn't take too much…"

Cobra Commander shook his head quite quickly. "Oh no, no.no, I wouldn't want that. Not now anyway." Then he slowly started rubbing his hands. "Actually, he would make a excellent addition for this evening."

During this, Angel glanced sideways at Wildman.

He was in shock.

Having to put up with the FBI was now the least of Duke's worries.

They screamed, cried, howled, complained and threatened him with every imaginable punishment and damnation that was both real and legal. But there were worst things to deal with, and Duke simply shut his radio off.

Joe Machine-gunner, Rock-n-Roll, reported in, the room they used for a Command Center was utterly trashed with a badly injured Psyche-Out and no trace of General Colton to be found. Gung-ho's group wasn't responding, but there was some yokel claiming to be from the Police Department demanding to know what was going on.

Duke quickly dispatched a second team to the area who called back describing vehicular carnage, a destroyed parade float, one whole city block engulfed in flames and scores of ugly-looking cops looking for one particular car.

Wildman's.

And speaking of him, he was gone. Long gone.

G. I. Joe had failed, and failed big.

Duke quickly snapped off that line of thought, no need to defeat himself while there was still the chance. UN Treaties, politicians, the Pentagon, and rules be dammed, G.I. Joe wasn't going down without a fight.

A fight he was prepared for.

Duke turned on his radio. "Cutter! Call the team to order!" He snapped into it. "We're going to Cobra Island!"

"There's no sign of Hydra on board." Candy's voice came over Yukinama's personal radio. "And worse," she then added with ominous tones, "one of the pontoon boats is missing."

Yukinama took the news with a low angry curse.

Lifeline and Scarlett were with the still unconscious Stalker, dealing with his burned hand while guarded over by two crewmembers with machine pistols that stood not close enough for the Joes to make a play for them. They were silent, but giving Yukinama the occasional contemptible glare as she occasionally stared at them as well, as if figuring what to do about them.

No amount of asking could get them to open up about what was going on around them. Yukinama was a virtual block of ice in her curt matter with them, telling but not telling.

"Hydra was a surprise, a complete surprise. And most likely a complete surprise to Cobra as well."

And that was the most Scarlett was able to get. Even offers for help were brushed aside harshly, leaving the Joes to wonder what was really going on.

And finally, Scarlett had enough. "What makes you believe you can handle Cobra?" She directly told Yukinama without warning. "Do you have any ideal what you'll be facing with them?"

Again, she was ignored.

"This is not something to be handled by civilians." Scarlett continued. "You may have think you have a advantage now, but soon—"

On Yukinama's right wrist was a watch who's face was enormous, simply more larger than most even though it didn't have the functions of a specialized watch that one would take it for. As Scarlett ranted, Yukinama began twisting the outer ring of the watch face.

Then pointed it at the Joes.

Scarlett stopped with her mouth wide open. Lifeline was frozen in place next to her.

The rest of the ship's crew didn't even react.

"Get them out of here." Yukinama quietly directed.

In Mindbender's cloning lab, a small section of wall about the size of a modern telephone booth dedicated to communications. What it lacked in size was made up by being able to listen in on all of Cobra's _special_ radio frequencies, namely the ones Cobra Commander preferred using.

"This is Cobra-One, repeat, Cobra-One."

Cobra Commander's voice was unmistakable, making the bespeckled bald man with the handlebar moustache frown.

"Cobra Control here, Cobra-One." came a different voice, "We are ready for your arrival."

"Excellent. Doctor Wildman is with me. But additional accompaniments will need to be arranged for some 'guests' that are also arriving—comply?

"Understoo-"

Dr. Mindbender turned the monitor off.

"_It was only a matter of time." _He considered while turning to the cloning chambers against the south wall. _"Pity Cobra Commander didn't pay much attention to my cloning experiments, he might have gained a clue as to what I could do…"_

In the second chamber was another man, a large muscular man with long black hair who was already flexing his many muscles…

In preparedness for his birth.

Cobra Commander turned the radio off and set the jet on autopilot before relaxing in his seat.

"Well, Doctor Wildman, what do you think of Cobra efficiency?"

Seated behind him with Angel, Wildman smiled "Quite."

He had recovered from the shock of seeing Colton pulled from his car, which Cobra Commander had passed off as surprise. But Angel had her concerns for the Joe Leader, who was wedged uncomfortably between two ridged Crimson Guardsmen, shackled hand and foot.

General Colton stirred a little.

"Cobra is a world-wide organization with interests in a wide variety of fields in numerous countries." Cobra Commander casually replied, "Running it all flawlessly is a dream of mine, but from time to time I'm forced to deal with the annoying matters that do crop up. We've recent undergone a significant revamping and reorganization that removed certain elements that were starting to damage the organization as a whole. The repairs to the Island are well ahead of schedule. We're thankful that the nuclear device detonated there wasn't a very large one. Otherwise, trying to find a new location for headquarters would have been a serious headache, to say the least.

"Of course." Wildman simply nodded.

Angel stiffened slightly.

"Indeed." Cobra Commander nodded, slowly turning his seat towards Wildman. "So you see, being careful is a necessity for me. So I must ask, what are your reasons for wanting to join Cobra…"

Wildman was quiet for a few moments, not too long or too short, before modestly answering, "I desire the freedom to pursue whatever field of research that would be beneficial to all, instead of what officials demand I do."

Angel was just about ready to go for her concealed pistol, kept in a special holster strapped to her upper right thigh. Hang secrecy, Wildman was a fool heading for disaster and taking her with him. But, when she glanced at him, Wildman's hands were neatly folded in his lap—gently manipulating the dial frame of his watch.

She had to see it indirectly. When Angel adjusted her posture in preparation to attack, the scean vanished. When she settled back to her previous position, she could see it out of the corner of her eye. Not even Cobra Commander noticed her movement.

That made her stop.

"Do you believe that what you'd pursue would be beneficial to Cobra's Ultimate Goal?" Cobra Commander directly asked.

"The success of Cobra in achieving it's goals definitely lies on multiple paths, and each of these paths will require development of it's own to achieve it's portion of the ultimate goal. This in turn requires the freedom to act in the form of creativity and the thorough investigation of any spawned ideals created in the process to achieve the desired goals. And to that, the proper management of time becomes an essential part of the equation."

Cobra Commander steeped his gloved fingers together. "I find it surprising you didn't mention patience, Doctor."

"Patience is proper management, Commander." Wildman easily replied, "The good manager practices it all the time."

"For not to leads to destruction." Cobra Commander quietly replied, slowly slipping his fingers together while leaning forward towards Wildman. "Patience is not a easy ability to master, as I can attest to personally. It's also the same with technology, each path requires it's own amount of time before it can bear useful fruit."

Angel wished she could see Cobra Commander's face behind the mirrored faceplate, at least she could easily tell how the mental and verbal sparring between him and Wildman was going. Instead, she wondered and worried without letting it show while Wildman stared confidently back at Cobra Commander.

"I admire your ability to reason things to the lowest denominator." He told Wildman. "Such a ability sets you above the rest. I feel that you'll make a excellent addition to the Organization"

"I thank you, Commander." Wildman earnestly nodded.

And Angel's stomach began tensing.

_What was really going on here?_ She wondered.

Lift-Ticket rode worriedly over the Tomahawk. The twin-engined, twin-rotor helicopter was the workhorse of the Joe Team, designed to be outfitted as deemed necessary to the required mission. But operating both engines in the red zone wasn't required; it was dangerous.

Duke wanted all of the Joes from the Tower Continental with him moved quickly, and Lift-Ticket was the man to do the job. He just wished Duke would have a little more consideration for the limits of their equipment.

In the passenger compartment, Duke began to explain what they were about to do next.

"All of you know of the ramifications of our failure to keep Cobra away from Wildman." Duke began. "So, General Colton and I created this last ditch option—we head to Cobra Island with the attainable objective of either bringing Wildman back by force, or, render him unusable to Cobra."

Some of the Joe's stirred. Duke expected it, but the looks were of confusion.

"Render him 'unusable' to Cobra?" piped vehicle operator Cross-Country, "Just what in the heck is that suppose to mean?"

"Means we're to kill him." Mercer, the ex-Cobra Viper, flatly replied stony-faced.

"Pentagon clearance came through four hours ago for the wetwork." Duke added, his voice heavy from the fact that what he was telling them was clearly illegal in every sense of the term. "Based largely on what Wildman could do for them, and against us, the Brass didn't want _that_ ever occurring. And in spite the U.N., it has to be done."

"That probably why the Pentagon cleared it." Roadblock frowned. The giant heavy machine gunner and expert cook folded his large arms across his massive chest. "You know they're just dying for a excuse to shut us down."

" Or build a team that's to _their_ liking." Duke knew, and knew full well. "I do, and we don't have any choice in the matter. One way or another, we're taking it in the shorts—especially if we fail.

"But, " he then added, "there's also a very good chance that we can pull this off without the U.N. ever knowing. It's slim, but good."

And Duke looked at every one of them in that cramped compartment before asking the question, "Now, how many of you want to go to hell with me?"

They all stared back at him.

"If anyone of you want out of this mad plan, I'll have Lift-Ticket land this bird and you can walk." Duke then told them. "You have no obligation to stay if you feel it's wrong, and I have no right to force you to remain. I want you all to know that."

By saying what he said, Duke put them all, legally into the clear while placing full responsibility upon himself. If things failed, Duke would be the one taking full blame for the incident. And he knew it, which was why he was giving them the chance to bail. At least they wouldn't fall as hard as he would in the event of failure.

But as the moments slowly ticked by, Duke was becoming aware of one very important fact about G.I.Joe that he should have known all this time.

Not a one of them was going to back down from this.

It made him smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Six.

Every now and then, Yukinama would glance at the small monitor near her command chair to see what they Joes were doing--as if they could do anything. Sitting still in the holding chairs under the control of the Persuader ELF systems, their minds were somewhere else and out of Yukinama's hair.

But the occasional glance was necessary on her part, since enough had already occurred and she had no desire to make the situation even worse.

It was bad enough already.

"We've gone through this ship." Ms. Candy reported, "There's no doubt that Hydra's off it. But he did leave things to remember him by."

_More bombs, more sabotage?_ Yukinama's mind raced over the possibilities of having more to major problems deal with now.

"Slaver Systems." Candy explained. "He managed to plant enough of the things throughout the ship to give us fits. Everyone of our systems will need to be checked over for eggs and cockroaches before we can use them."

Yukinama kept her outward cool while within the blow caused her no end of grief.

"And then there's the vehicles." Candy continued, quite a few show signs of—"

"Root it all out, Candy. Just root it all out." Yukinama tiredly told her. "Do your best."

Ms. Candy took that order to heart and left quickly, leaving Yukinama to glance again at the monitor in frustration at herself for allowing everything to go wrong.

Upon their arrival on Cobra Island, Wildman, Angel, and newly awakened General Colton had their first view of the Cobra Command Complex. It was grouping of several smaller Inca-style zygotes surrounding around a very massive pyramid, all in white ivory with a massive Cobra logo in deep red prominently mounted at it's top. The entire complex itself covered one square mile, giving a commanding view of the entire reconditioned island from its highest point.

"I've recently remodeled." Cobra Commander explained to them. "What do you think?"

Wildman and Angel said the usual nice things while Colton just glared as the Crimson Guardsmen prodded him along at the ends of their rifles.

"Yes, well, things have been rather hectic lately." Cobra Commander nonchalantly motioned. "And do excuse the mess, the remodeling isn't quite finished."

"After the UN finds out what's occurred, Commander, the Mess will be the least of your worries." Colton finally remarked, which earned him a very brutal shove from behind.

"The United Nations isn't at all on my mind at the moment." Cobra Commander curtly replied to Hawk. "In fact, your being here was quite accidental. Normally the Dreadnoks would have just killed you, but apparently they were merciful…I'll need to speak to Zartan about that after he wakes up."

The Commander stood in contemplation before Hawk, quietly considering things with a gloved hand near where his chin would be if not for the helmet.

"But, such opportunity cannot be merely wasted when it can be so beneficial to all concerned." And then he ordered the Guardsmen. "Take him to the Brainwave Scanner, and have the technicians ready him for a treatment."

As the Guardsmen moved to comply, Cobra Commander added to Colton, "It's certain to make a new man out of you."

"Charming." Colton frowned as the Guardsmen started leading him away.

Then Wildman stepped in. "May I have a few last words with him?"

"I'm not going to have him killed, Doctor." The Commander dryly replied. "I'm just going to change how he considers things."

"I'd like him to understand something." Wildman insisted. "It may make things a little easier."

Cobra Commander quietly considered the request, then motioned to the Guardsmen to halt. "Very well. " he said. "But keep it brief."

Wildman nodded his thanks to the Commander before stepping up to Colton, who regarded him with utmost contempt.

"I mean you no ill will, General." Wildman began, nervously rubbing his watch, "But after so many years of abuse, I've made up my mind to never allow myself to be caged up for others benefit—no matter the reason."

"You've just managed to contradict yourself, Doctor." Colton frowned.

Wildman was quiet for a few moments before replying in a reflective way, "Life is such, General."

Then he held out his hand to Colton.

"No hard feelings?" he said.

Colton had plenty at the moment, but was too decent of a man to lower himself for the entertainment of his enemies.

Especially now

"None." Colton said, giving Wildman a hard look when they shook hands.

And felt Wildman slip something from his hand to his, sliding it just under his wristwatch in moments.

Then Wildman smiled, releasing Colton's hand.

"I hope to see you soon, General." He told him.

The tour Cobra Commander gave them was quite extensive, centering on the main command sections of the Command Complex.

While Wildman took in every word with interest, Angel did her best not to appear bored. She even began considering that Cobra Commander was grossly over inflating the importance of all he talked about with Wildman, and was quite glad it was over and they were shown to their room by a Crimson Guardsman.

Cobra Commander, she firmly decided, was a bore. A big egotistical bore.

The apartment itself was furnished with only the basic needs in mind, though the furniture was better suited to a style some thirty years prior it was serviceable, what the placed needed was that 'personal touch'.

At least the bed in the bedroom was comfortable. Angel sat on it watching Wildman bring his single large duffle into the bedroom, and then proceed to take things from various hidden compartments inside the bag and lay them out on the bed.

Noticing this, doubt over the '_defection_' started to grow, as did the number of questions she wanted to ask.

He was here for a purpose. What, Angel wondered, reflecting on the discussion in the elevator, found to be both vague and elusive.

"Mind if I ask you a question?" she asked.

Wildman, now putting the things into his jacket, still didn't acknowledge her.

She let the wave of sudden anger wash past without yielding to its urge to act.

"You know, I didn't take too kindly to being dragged into this." She directly told him.

He paused.

"I don't know what you're doing, but I will find out one way or another!" She continued. _"So, would you mind telling me?"_

Wildman stood there hunched over his things, first surprised, then frustrated.

"It's not going to be easy to explain," he told her, "You'd think me insane, if you aren't already thinking that. But then, showing you might drive you insane—especially if you took your remarks to me in the elevator seriously."

Angel gave him a sour look. "You're joking."

"I wish it was a joke." He frowned. "Then I could just kick back and laugh loudly about it with my friends over wine and tobacco—but it's not."

The irritation was there, really there. This wasn't acting at all, Angel realized.

"Due to my impatience, you're here. That's inexcusable, but unavoidable—I first thought you were the Cobra agent sent to get me, and couldn't let Zartan kill you or get mulched by the rest of the Dreadnoks." He continued. "And now on top of finding the survivors and keeping you safe, there's General Colton somewhere in this complex…I just hope he doesn't loose the tracker I slipped him."

"Murphy must love you." Angel chided, and immediately regretted it for Wildman suddenly snapped back.

"What I said to Colton when he visited me in the penthouse suite and what I told Cobra Commander on the way here _are my true feelings!_" he snapped. "You people only think of me as a _possession_ with skills to be horded and locked away for your own special use, not caring at all that I am not much different that you with the same wants and needs. Oh no! I'm just something to use to fulfill your own ends, your own goals—caring less that I too suffer!

"My wife died, alone, all because some General just had to have his special 'toy' to give him the edge. I couldn't even save her beca--"

Abruptly stopping with the realization of something frozen on his face, Wildman melted back from the rage into a solemn form. But there was no mistaking the anger in those eyes. The glitter swirled viciously in them still even after catching himself, and most likely continued after he shut his eyes and turned away from Angel.

It was uncomfortable to watch.

There was no acting; the anger was pure and long held with in. For how long Angel couldn't guess, but it was solid enough to for him to defect. Embitterness mixed with idealology. Wildman had it, right down to his core.

_So where had he been all this time? _Angel wondered, as Wildman went back to his rummaging, ignoring her completely. _A deep hole? The Amazon? Some deserted Island?_

_Outer Space?_

That made her pause, made her remember what he'd said to her earlier…in the elevator.

It was crazy. But it did fit…

"You did hint that it could have been…back in the elevator…that I was right?" She quietly asked.

It took a long minute for Wildman to regain his composure. A long minute of quite consideration –to act or not to act. And then taking time to consider what and how to say it before facing her.

"You're very perceptive." He quietly said, with just a trace of anger. "Either that or very good guesser. I just hope Cobra Commander hasn't tumbled onto it as you have."

Now Angel was very uneasy. It was a guess occurring in the heat of the moment in the elevator. It just popped into her head, with no rhyme or reason. Now her mind was just reeling over the possibilities of how right her guess was.

What kept her in check was Wildman's angle in all of this.

"You came here to retrieve a _spaceship?"_

"No." Wildman answered, "to find the wreckage of one—and the survivors"

A part of Angel, the part that considered itself to be practical, started reverting back to the original premise of Wildman is a defector who needs to be stopped.

However, it was being beaten back by the other half didn't know what to think because inspire how incredible the whole story was there were just too many factors involved that pointed to it as being the truth.

She just stared at him wondering how all the pieces fit, because truth or not, it was just too strange.

Wildman noticed that look, and came to the only conclusion that would work.

"Guess I'm just going to haft to show you."

And reached for the dial of his watch, hoping she could take the realization of it.

Cobra Commander never considered himself to be a 'Peeping Tom', he was just _careful_. Of course, he was irritated over the tardiness of the Techno Vipers to properly set the surveillance devices in Wildman's room. But there were other courses he could take.

The folder he was given was the result of such carefulness.

Angelica Drummond, 2nd Lt. Royal Air Force, currently on assignment to MI6 for special operations in New Orleans. It didn't take too much imagination on Cobra Commander's part to put things together, but using the daughter of an English nobleman with deep connections within his country's Intelligence service was quite surprising nonetheless. Cobra Commander considered the possible uses for her in the same way he did for General Colton, but broke the chain of though off to return to Wildman.

The famous scientist came across a shade too desperate to escape from what he called a 'cage'. Yet, for twenty odd years he was virtually hidden from the World's best intelligence agencies. A feat not even the worst war criminals could achieve, even with money and assistance. Cobra Commander deliberately stalled Wildman for a week just to see how earnest it all was, sacrificing a medium-level messenger to the CIA in the process just to see what would occur. The events in New Orleans, the report he'd just finished reading as well, came off as legitimate, but that car of Wildman's was just too conveniently placed in the service garage.

_But why was he here?_ Pondered Cobra Commander, _why return? Why not continue hiding? And why now of all times to emerge from hiding?_

That last thought was the most pestering. Yet it was becoming more and more undeniable that the timing of the Meteor and Wildman's desire to join Cobra was simply too close to be purely accidental.

So he wondered.


	8. Chapter 8

Seven.

Hydra wished he had the time to change into more appropriate attire for moving through the jungle.

Not that it mattered. It was night, his Persuader could tend to that by 'making' anyone he came across not see it or him, and he wanted to get off the Delilegos quickly while the bombs were going off. But the jungle foliage was taking its toll on the suit, it's snagging on various braches and vines were reducing it to a tattered mess.

There was no way that tailor on Fleet Street was even going to try repairing the damage. But at least he could get a replacement, that's what kept his mind off his clothes and on the mission at hand. It was just three miles from where he landed the boat to where Cobra Commander had the survivors, guarded by BAT II's who'd shoot on sight without the proper codes—which Hydra was able to get from Cobra Commander shortly before leaving for the Delilegos. And the Viralpack was snug in his shirt pocket, all he needed to do was get close enough to use it, and Devronique would reward him for removing the one stumbling block to his plans.

Viral weapons weren't Hydra's favorite choice however. Though they worked quickly, they had the habit of spreading even quicker if not properly administered to the target, which put him a significant risk of exposure. Gas, explosives, or poisons were the better, more predictable weapons of choice and less risk to use. But Devronique himself gave the Viralpack to him when giving the order, not something he could refuse unless he didn't feel like living anymore.

After several minutes, Hydra came to the Main Road, which went completely around the Island, and he was only a quarter mile from where he needed to be. Things would be over with soon; he smiled, so at a jog he set out….

Right into the shock of his life.

From the jungle around him figures emerged armed with silenced weaponry that quickly surrounded him in a highly professional way. Hydra didn't panic; he stayed still poised with a hand ready to touch his special tiepin.

And found it gone.

"Most try something." A rather aristocratic voice came from the darkness. "Usually a defensive posture, or they start pleading for their life."

With his implanted cyber weapons, Hydra could kill several score of his captors in an instant right then and there. However, there was more lingering in the darkness of the foliage supporting their fellows. Enough of them who could kill him just as easily even if he moved. And if one of their shots hit the Viralpack.

"Or are you waiting for something to happen?" the voice continued from the darkness, now mocking him.

The odds were bad, but Hydra knew if he'd get his captors to move in closer he'd stand a chance. That meant being passive.

"I am Doctor Hydra." He yelled officiously in the voices direction. "Chief Scientist for the Cobra Organization. I demand to know who you are!"

A soft chuckle came from the foliage. Hydra knew his bait was taken, and the sound of something moving out of it made him ready. His tormentor stepped out into view was a giant of a man wearing a gold and green outfit resembling a giant snake with a flowing crimson robe attached around his neck.

A giant Cobra snake.

"Greetings, Doctor Hydra…I am _Serpentor!_"

Hydra heard the name before, spoken as a foul curse by Cobra Commander.

Hydra steeled himself, making himself calm before unleashing his storm.

But Serpentor raised his left hand up. "Mindbender, do the honors."

_Mindbender_…Hydra's mind raced…

Then suddenly, he became quite passive.

The elevator ride down was agonizingly slow, though it gave Colton plenty of time to think about how to deal with the two Guardsmen in front of him and the Viper at the elevator's controls—who was now stuck with the duty of taking Colton the rest of the way to the Scrambler, and not liking it at all.

All he had were the heavy shackles on his wrists and feet—and chained to the elevators back wall for good measure. Though no slouch, he wasn't Snake Eyes. Colton didn't have the Ninja's speed and preciseness in hitting.

What he needed was luck to catch them all unaware at the right time.

The elevator stopped, snapping him into awareness. He tensed, expecting that he arrived where Cobra Commander ordered him sent.

Instead, the two Guardsmen stepped off.

"Hey Joe, you'll love it down there." one mocked Colton, while his companion just gestured obscenely at him before the doors closed and the elevator continued it's slow decent.

Colton had had better insults hurtled at him by more imaginative people. But now it was only the Viper with him in the car. And the uniform looked like it might fit him.

So he stood there. Make the Viper think he was just guarding some old General whose glory days were forty years ago; there was enough gray in his hair and beard along with the wrinkles to show it.

_Let him get close enough_, he thought, there was enough slack in the shackles' heavy chain at his wrists to make it a very effective weapon. Timing and force would be everything.

When the elevator came to a halt, Colton started tensing.

"Move!!" The Viper ordered, after releasing Colton from the wall. He didn't draw his weapon, or do anything else that would have ruined Colton's plans.

The General shuffled forward in a defeated sort of way, hands held low with body bent forward…

And when the Viper pushed at his back to propel him forward, Colton spun, swinging the chain upwardly like a club into the Viper's face smashing both the nose and teeth on the first hit, and removing his helmet at well—and kept hitting the Viper until there was no further need to do so. Messy, but the blood easily blended in with the crimson scarf Vipers wore over the lower half of their faces. Colton found the keys to free himself, then dragged the body from the elevator into the dimly lit hallway where he quickly swapped uniforms and dumped the Viper's body down a garbage chute.

Later, in the privacy of a stairwell, after his disguise passed muster with several other Vipers, Colton examined what Wildman had slipped him. It was round, smaller than a dime, and flesh colored. In fact, he would have missed it if he didn't feel it being so skillfully slipped under his watch.

It didn't look like much at all. But Colton wondered if it was a locator.


	9. Chapter 9

Eight.

They hid in the shadow of the Moon, three hundred ships in all. Each fully capable of delivering devastation when the order was given.

_So far, so well_. Devronique reasoned, alone in his room, lounging before the monitor screen in his simple regal gown that showed the Earth in absolute detail.

Confidence was quite readily displayed on his soft handsome face, knowing that Hawkern couldn't do anything to counter him without exposing himself as well.

The Persuader Field only worked so well on the mind of those it was focused on, sudden explosions of unexplained origin along with massive amounts of debris would be impossible to hide from the natives of Earth.

He knew it, Hawkern knew it.

And took another sip of wine to calm himself, brushing back a strand of his long dark hair.

In four hours, he would be making an appearance to the planet that he knew would both expose and doom Hawkern—paving the way toward achieving the long held dream of uniting the fragmented worlds under one rule…

His.

Just Merrimeck had to do his job.

And he'd better do that job, or he was dead…


	10. Chapter 10

Nine

When the Osprey landed on the aft deck, Yukinama knew she had to explain the state of the Delilegos.

Worse, she had to do it in front of Ayers wife.

That made honorable suicide quite appealing. Unfortunately, Ayers noticed the mess right off and demanded to know what happened before she could.

There was no way out of it.

She told him, with Ms Candy standing dutifully at her side.

"_I thought you people made sure nothing like this could occur!!"_ Ayers blasted back. _"How could you let Hydra slip through like that? Hell!! How could you not have known about him in the first place!"_

At that moment Lisa Hawkern entered the room.

"SS9 gave no such indication that Hydra was more than he appeared." Yukinama managed to get out. "It was believed that Devronique would stage a small squad attack on the Delilegos."

"_One man is a small squad!!"_ Ayers blasted back. _"Or has the concept never occurred to you?"_

Yukinama shrank back. Ms Candy trembled.

Then he turned to Hawkern. "Nine hosed it."

"By how much ?" Hawkern asked, showing more self-control than her husband at the moment.

Ayers turned to Yukinama.

"The Jumpers in the forward hangers are untouched, but there are only two usable Strafers. The rest have been rendered unusable due to sabotage." Yukinama reluctantly answered her. "We've had to replace or jury-rig door controls so they'd work. And one quarter of our forces have been removed from the duty."

Ayers looked ready to explode all over again, but held it this time.

"The Ship's Systems took the brunt of a infection." Yukinama continued. "Tech is making bypasses for most systems, but they stated that a full system flush is needed to insure no surprises."

Ayers just glared once more at Yukinama.

"Wonks could load up the Angelstar with Knights, Strafers and a Tech crew, and be here in a hour." Hawkern suggested to her husband.

Yukinama did her best to hide the humiliation she was feeling.

Ayers calmed himself down before responding. "The PAS Suits and supportive armored will need to be used by my people. Nine's stuff is too specialized." Ayers quickly replied. "But it'll offset the damage done here."

Then her turned to Yukinama, snarling, "I hope. I just hope that Kim can find the survivors before anymore crap happens."

It had been a very interesting hour.

Fortunately, as Mindbender considered it, only he and Serpentor herd all that Hydra, now slumped like a rag doll in the chair before them, had told under the direct influence of his portable Brainwave scrambler.

"Are you certain that device is working properly?" Serpentor sharply asked.

Startled himself, Mindbender looked down at the large gun-like device in disbelief. "It was working perfectly, My Lord. There is no way he could have lied…at all."

Serpentor had his doubts. Much of his makeup wouldn't believe what he'd just herd, but Mindbender was always sure of his equipment, otherwise he wouldn't be here at all.

Considering things as quickly as his mind could, Serpentor relied on the experiences of those who made him.

"We'll need to modify our plans." He quickly said. "A small group of warriors who wont falter when the moment is upon them."

"The Night Creeper's." Mindbender suggested. Serpentor turned to him with a smile, which from Mindbender's experiences could mean anything.

"A few of them will do." He said. "And with Hydra's duplicate key, we'll achieve more than we've ever dreamed."

There was really nothing that could be said.

"_I didn't know"_ just didn't have the magnitude needed to overcome the situation.

Of course, what could be said? Wildman had been correct on that point, and she couldn't blame him for that.

Angel just watched Wildman finish with his equipment. It was all she could really do at the moment.

Wildman was quiet as well. But he couldn't take either his mind or the occasional glance at Angel sitting there woefully on the bed. She took the matter well enough, thought the sudden start she had had given him enough of a fright that when he leaped to restrain her they tumbled off the bed.

She couldn't stay here alone, he realized. There was no way he'll make that same mistake twice, especially with an innocent.

"Now," he gently told her, "I need to get Cobra Commander to tell where they are. Then, I'll get you and Colton out of here. But first I need to get you to a safe place."

It was odd to see him now, after what had happened. No one would have guessed it to be the reason, the actual reason, why everything was happening this night. Angel herself never would have guessed, and Wildman did tell her she wouldn't have believed it even if he'd explained it.

She had to see it. And did.

And now, as the shock was wearing off, she leaned forward to him. "I'm coming with you." Angel quietly told him. "I told you that I don't take kindly to sittin' around waiting."

Wildman blanched. It was definite look he was going to say no, and started speaking when the door to the apartment suddenly burst open with a loud bang and louder shouting.

Wildman swept Angel up in his arms one movement, and as he held her in a tight embrace, Angel began feeling as if millions of ants were crawling across her skin in mass. Then several heavily armed Cobra Vipers flooded into the room with weapons ready to go with only a press of their triggers. They stormed throughout the bedroom seeking what was in reality only mere feet and inches from their searching. Yet, when they started moving towards them, they'd suddenly veer away without cause or reason, or wonder at their actions.

Angel found it all too fascinating to be frightening.

Two minutes of this, the soldiers reluctantly left to search the halls and other sections of the immediate complex for Cobra Commander's 'Guests".

"Serpentor will have our hides if we fail!" snapped one as the squad left.

"Well," Angel felt Wildman whisper into her ear, "I guess that settles that."

Serpentor fully intended to make 'his return' to Cobra precisely at Midnight.

However, as the experience within him conceded, things always never go as planned because something always delayed plans. But this time it was something that he considered good, an unexpected 'boon' that fell into his hands by the power of fate. And that glory buzzed happily in his mind making him more cheery than the usual while leading his loyalist troops towards the Command Center.

There were more troops who went ahead to deal with any who would have alerted Cobra Commander to Serpentor arrival, and were now in place to deal with any further problems. So by the time the Cobra Emperor entered the grounds of the Command Complex, all communications and security were well in his control playing digital recordings for the Commander's amusement with altered timestamps.

It was perfect.

So when he entered the Command Center with his followers, Cobra Commander quite literally leaped to his feet in surprise. All activity in the room stopped.

"Greetings, Commander!" Serpentor boldly announced with a wide smile on his usually cruel face. _"I have returned!!"_

Serpentor's forces quickly prevented anything remotely defiant from occurring while others brought Cobra Commander down from the command chair. Which after disarming and shackling him, they then forced to kneel before the very triumphant Serpentor.

"I do hope my return hasn't inconvenienced you in any way, Commander." The cloned creation continued, "But I didn't feel that it was necessary to inform you, makes it easier to eliminate the weak and sloppy from the ranks. Wouldn't you say so?"  
Serpentor's sense of humor was just like his presence to Cobra Commander, purely abrasive. And once again, the creation was taking power away from him—now by force. "I dealt with Mindbender and all his genetic works!!" Cobra Commander shouted back, "He is dead, _and so are you!!_"

"Yes, we were." Serpentor remarked in a foppish way. "But now we've returned…such are the nature of clones."

Cobra Commander went cold inside. The first things he did was the 'remodeling' was the elimination of most of Mindbender's work in that special area. Now, he realized, he'd missed a spot.

"But now that I am back," Serpentor glared down at him with a harsh, evil gaze, "I intend to stay for a very, very long time. Do not expect help from any loyal to you, I've seen to them before ever setting foot here."

Then in the pause, he broke into a very evil smile that reflected off the Commander's mirrored faceplate. "Nor should you ever try 'buying' the friendship of the _Edrailians_."

Cobra Commander made a slight gasping sound that pleased Serpentor to no end.

"Yes." He hissed, "I know…. _Hydra is one_…and Wildman—"

Alarm claxtons loudly interrupted the Cobra Emperor, causing him to angrily demand, "What is it!!"

Technicians hurried to find out. "There's a illegal penetration in the Northern Gulf perimeter!" one of them hurriedly replied.

"Destroy it!" Serpentor barked back.

The tech in question started to tell Serpentor about what they could do under the UN Security Treaty, but decided quite quickly that he wanted to die at a very old age and relayed the order.

_Alright_, Ayers had to calm himself down before even beginning to deal with any of the wrecked of a Jumper to get his prospectives in order.

_Half the equipment is sabotaged, that can be replaced by what being bright. It'll be an odd fit with regards to S-9's stuff, but tough for them if they whine about it—they dropped the ball, they deal with it._

And then he began his examinations.

Of all of the Cobra Techno Vipers rigged for suicide, only four did any real damage when touching off their demo packs. The rest were stopped by S-F's, but they detonated as well seriously damaging relays and portions of the ship's internal structure.

Those members of the Joe Team survived only because they were stopped by the S-F's before they could arm the demo packs Hydra gave them.

So, instead of only a quarter of the ship being flooded, the entire ship would be sitting on the Gulf floor and Deveronique getting what he wanted. Close, but they weren't out of the game yet. Damage Control was tending to the ship and wrecked vehicles, his own people would be here shortly to help and he himself was about to start work on one of the damaged Jumpers when his wife's voice cut swiftly through the air,

"_Come to the Command Center!!**"**_

Ayers raced for the bridge with little concern for anyone around him. But instead of the message he hoped for, he found instead his wife standing by a technician who's tapped into Cobra's inter-island communication giving the order to destroy a intrusion attempt coming from the north. For a good while, many onboard the Dom Delilegos wondered if they were the intruders and readied themselves for an attack.

Minutes later, they had their answer.

"It's the Joes!" came an excited squawk over the speaker, followed by a calmer voice that relayed information back to Cobra Island.

And then, "What are we waiting for! Let's party!!"

And those in the Command Center could only listen in a state of perplexity as the Cobra pilots gave vivid descriptions of their dealings with the sudden arrival of Joe forces in the area, but not one call was made to the UN reporting the treaty breech.

However, it was clearly evident that the Joes were taking it badly in the battle.

Then another monitor announced, "I'm picking up a attempt at interplanetary communications from Cobra Island."

And another tech reported that the Osprey-Jet had taken off.


	11. Chapter 11

Ten.

The Low Rider, as it was called, was a high-speed Insertion/Attack boat commissioned by the Generals Board of the Pentagon to replace the Joe Team's 'aging' (as one clerical report put it) fleet of Hovercrafts. Low in the water, sleek in design, heavily armed and packing plenty of radar masking and anti-jamming equipment that could handle anything thrown at it, the Low Rider was a real killer.

But only on paper.

In reality, the electrical systems shorted when the radar masking was engaged soon after the Joes entered Cobra waters--taking with it the communications, the weaponry systems, and the engine. And, as their luck was running, a swarm of Cobra F.A.N.G.gyrocopters showed up to try finishing off what the vehicle's design committee failed to do.

They were easily finished off by the Joes, though it took much of their small arms ammo to do it.

Duke knew they didn't stand a chance in the long run. Cutter could jury-rig the electronics just to get them moving again. Everybody else was busy keeping tense watch, hoping for nothing more.

"Cutter." Duke began, but the Coast Guardsman, normally in control no matter what the situation, gave him a very irritated glare.

"This things a hunk of junk!" Cutter snapped back in exasperation. "There's no—"

A burst of auto cannon fire shattered the supposedly bulletproof windscreen, sending shards everywhere. Some when into Cutter as he toppled over, others dislodged the 'dependable' electronics equipment that buried the hapless Coast Guardsman, and the rest went elsewhere. Duke didn't care about that, he was too busy reaching for the Medical Kit hoping it was complete enough to help Cutter.

A second explosion followed by a whoop of triumph from Roadblock, as the last F.A.N.G. gyro crashed to the waters in flames. Cutter was a mess, mostly his right arm, once he was dug out from under the electronics.

There was enough left in the kit to help, but that was it.

And Duke was angry.

Angry with himself for a good many things, namely leading several good men to their deaths in what amounted to a flimsy dingy--and for letting Colton down when he needed help the most. But Duke was never one to quit when the odds were bad, he'd never let himself. Nor were any of the Joes.

So, after pulling Cutter away from the messed up electronics, he started doing what he could to untangle the mess starting with the lead to the ignition. If he could get the engine restarted, that would be fine. The closer they could get to Cobra Island the easier it would be swimming the rest of the way with the injured.

It was the best plan he could come up with at the moment.

Until it was broken by a shout. "Hydrofoils!!"

With a dead ship, little ammo, and three miles from any sort of dry land, though hostile, the Joes knew this was it. But being the brave men that they were, they didn't plead and wail for mercy from the heavens. They simply leveled their weapons at the oncoming Hydrofoils and started firing when the attacking craft came into range, unaware of the slowly moving Osprey-Jet coming up from behind them. But with all the gunfire, it's baffled engines couldn't be herd anyway even if it was right on top of them, though it's engine exhaust wash would have given it away.

But they did noticed the craft's sole occupant fly right over their heads, rocketing towards the Cobra Hydrofoils.

As a rule, all Cobra vehicles contained a status tracker that monitored their performance or destruction.

When the last F.A.N.G. was blown from the sky, the Captain of Cobra Hydro 0023 was ready. Having been from when first intruder alert call went out over the radio to the present. So, when the F.A.N.G.'s failed, He, the squad leader, started moving his group into position while notifying the Command Center. Though Serpentor's face being on in place of Cobra Commander's was somewhat of a shock, he really didn't care who was in charge as long as he got his pay in a timely manner.

But Serpentor wasn't the kind that did a half-decent job. Nor was too difficult for the Squadron leader to understand what would happen if he did fail. Best get it all taken care of quickly.

Then Hydro 0078's Weaponry Officer's voice burst over the radio, "We have a airborne intruder approaching from the west!"

And thoughts of easy money went right out of the Captain's mind. "Get a I.D. on it!!" he barked out.

"It's a jet of some kind." His own weaponry officer replied. "Large enough to be a small cargo plane, but not behaving like one."

_To hell with how it's 'behaves'_, The Captain thought. There was only one way to settle things, and with a flip of the radio switch ordered his Squadron in for the kill.

"_Incoming!! Incoming!! Second intruder approaching from the north!"_

The shout rang through the squadron as its crews went into action with weapons ready.

"Identify!!" shouted 0078's Captain.

"_Unknown!"_ replied 0023's Captain over the radio.

"Well it's dead!!" declared 0127's Captain, and that foil suddenly shot ahead with its auto cannons blazing into the night sky.

"_Miss!!"_ came from 0023.

0078's Captain caught sight of what it was through his gun sight.

Then had to blink to be sure.

It looked very much like a very modern version of a midlevel armored knight, only with a winged backpack and a very large gun in its hands and wearing a giant wide brimmed hat with a very long scarf dangling it's neck.

0078's Captain had to blink and take a second look, just to be sure of what he saw.

And watched it blow Hydro 0127 front foil apart.

It shot upward while 0127 cartwheeled to destruction not too far from The Joes.

"_Scatter!! Scatter!!"_ screamed 0078's Captain, and the three remaining Foils raced off in three different directions. For moments, it wasn't on radar. Then it was seen right next to 0302's blind side by 0023, which quickly dispatched a missile. But their opponent only stayed long enough before suddenly racing away, and their missile struck 0302's aft causing a spectacular explosion.

"_Track it!! Track it!!"_ 0078's Captain screamed over the radio at 0023's Captain as the thing went into a banking turn easily avoiding the cannon fire directed at it. 0023 nearly flipped from the tight turn it made while shooting away, and 0078's Captain directed his pilot to head straight for the Joes. If the other boat kept it off of his back just long enough, the captain reasoned, he wouldn't need to worry about Serpentor's fury over not dealing with the Joes.

It didn't last very long. 0023 fired all it's missiles at the intruder, only to see it them shoot them all from the sky before while 0078's Captain watched the Joes quickly board the Osprey-Jet through his gun sight. No worry, a couple of salvos of missiles should finish them all off, 0078's Captain mused, gripping the launch handle.

Then a massive explosion behind him woke him rudely from that.

0023's shattered remains fell to the ocean when he turned back.

"…god…" uttered the Captain.

"_Missiles incoming!!"_ cried the Weapons Officer.

It was over in a moment. And there was nothing 0078's crew could have done except wish it all away in those final moments.

The first thing Duke did once aboard the Osprey was run to its cockpit. Manna from heaven or not, he _wanted_ answers.

But Wild Bill, the wiry Texan Joe-pilot had beaten him to it.

"Duke! There's no one flying this thing!"

Duke pushed past Wild Bill to see for himself a highly sophisticated computerized control panel consisting of several digital screens that monitored every aspect of the Osprey's performance, position, and other things that the Joes could only guess at. Even the hand and throttle controls were positioned unusually on the pilots' seats, giving an unobstructed view of the control panel.

But no one was seated at the controls.

"This." Wild Bill quietly pointed out, "Is plenty sophisticated."

"But who's is it?" Lift Ticket, behind them, questioned.

Duke looked, and found no familiar markings to indicate such. But it still didn't make him lower his guard.

"_DUKE!!!"_

Roadblock's shout brought them back to the cargo hold, where the big machine gunner held his .50 Browning upon the large, blocky, knightly figure with deep crimson colorization now standing illuminated in the rear doorway, with it's large black hat cocked at angle and ends of a multi-colored scarf dangling near it's large boot-like feet. It looked threatening, to a point, even with it's massive gun lowered. But it tipped the brim of its floppy hat back, revealing a black faceplate as it scanned the Joes before it…

Stopping at Duke, it asked in a polite but booming voice, "Excuse me, Sergeant Hauser, but would you ask your man to lower his weapon, please? Not that it could actually hurt me with my armoring, but it's quite possible for the deflected rounds to shoot down this aircraft."

Duke glanced at Roadblock, then back at the figure. First things first. "How'd you know my name?" He demanded.

"Proper identity search of the Pentagon's Special Forces Database revealed it." It replied casually. "A simple matter, really."

That Database was kept separate from the more accessible computer systems of the Pentagon, isolated in the high security areas of the basement. Duke didn't let the surprise of that show. Nor was he about to start trusting this stranger just yet, whatever it was.

"Of course, you do have your reasons for not being forthcoming." It continued. "However, time is very short and I'm in enough trouble already."

"Really? With who?"

Duke wasn't expecting an answer, just an angle which to start getting information from a rather unusual robot that was acting almost human.

"My maker, Professor Donald Ayers."

Now Duke couldn't contain his surprise. _Ayers…Wildman's close friend._

"Please, " the robot stated, "we must leave this area quickly. I will explain what is going on." And after a short pause, asked, "But, could you have him lower that auto cannon first? I'm already in plenty of trouble and do not need to add this craft being damaged to it."

Being together made moving difficult, but Angel knew that for as long as Wildman had her riding piggy-back neither of them would be seen by all of the Cobra soldiers swarming around them. By the same token, she also realized that someone watching the corridor on a security monitor would start wondering why everyone was avoiding a certain spot in the corridor that kept moving.

No doubt, Wildman did as well. He was searching for something, perhaps a room to hide in.

Up stairs and down more corridors, they went until they located was could be the best place to hide, a Crimson Guardsman barracks.

"Are you sure?" she whispered into his ear, but he didn't reply.

The locker room had few people inside, quickly dressing. Wildman and Angel moved towards the farthest portion of the room, and there found one Guardsman dressing in a hurriedly haphazard fashion—until Wildman knocked him unconscious.

"Get into his uniform, Wildman whispered to Angel as he lowered her to the floor. The man wasn't slim, or too fat by any means, just tall. Angel hurried getting into the uniform while Wildman stuffed the Guardsman in his locker. Extra towels helped fill out the body of the uniform, but the helmet was a little too big.

"It'll haft to do." He told her, then handed her what appeared to be a small coin—like the one he slipped to Colton.

"Tracking element." Wildman explained. "It runs on body heat, and I'd know where you are within five miles."

"Now, you give this to me." Angel remarked, taking the disk from him.

"You…. were dressing." Wildman slightly flushed

He didn't need to explain any further to her. She knew he wasn't the type to watch women while they dressed.

Angel just smiled, slipped the disk into the right glove "I was joking."

Serpentor had a fit.

Closely monitoring the Battle over the radio, he became incensed when the F.A.N.G.'s were defeated—then flew into a rage when an interloper single-handedly destroyed the hydrofoils.

Now, he was vivid with anger because now they couldn't find either the interloper or the Joes, as well as Wildman or his female companion.

Cobra Commander, still at Serpentor's feet, enjoyed every moment of it in spite the precarious position he was in.

He started laughing.

"_Take him from my sight!!"_ Serpentor practically screamed, and Cobra Commander was dragged from the Command Center by several of Serpentor's followers in a noisy, physical manner to an elevator with two other Guardsmen and a Viper at the controls.

Now things were quite different, but Cobra Commander had the one thing he's never have around Serpentor; opportunity. Of course it depended on a few things…

"Listen to me," Cobra Commander began, "I can make it worth your while to help—"

The rifle butt to the face said it all, cracking the faceplate.

"Nice form." Commented a Guardsman to the Viper.

"It was easy." The Viper nonchalantly remarked while flipping his rifle around. "Now, I just want to see him try something."

"Attempted escape?" queried a Guardsman.

Cobra Commander recognized the Viper's voice.

"That would be nice." The Viper drawled under his crimson scarf. "He was shot dead while making attempt to take my weapon."

"Wouldn't Serpentor have anything to say about it?" a different Guardsman spoke up.

The Viper and the first Guardsman looked in that one's direction, and the first Guardsman began preparing his weapon.

"Only if you're dumb enough to tell him what happened." The first Guardsman said coldly.

"He'd find out anyway." Said the Second Guardsman. "And there'd be hell to pay."

"So we tell him." The Viper simply stated, "'Shot dead while trying to take my weapon…what's wrong with that?."

Cobra Commander stayed quiet during the conversing, figuring and waiting for his best chance. So as the Viper stared down at him, the Commander finally recognized who it was in the uniform.

"Pity you wont know why Wildman's _really_ here for, General Colton."

The Viper paused with an odd look on his face.

"That is you, isn't it?" Cobra Commander continued speaking to the Viper. "Managed to escape?"

The first Guardsman looked at the Viper, who stood frozen.

Colton knew it was time to act or die.

"You gotta be kidding me—" started the second Guardsman. But the first Guardsman yelled, bring his pistol into play as Cobra Commander quickly fell to the floor.

Colton knew he was had, but not beaten as he quickly riddled the Guardsmen's bodies with bullets until they slid lifelessly to the floor.

"Now I know I can always count on G.I. Joe to rescue me." remarked Cobra Commander.

Colton grabbed the shackled Commander by the neck and hauled him up to his feet.

"Think you're cute, Commander?" Colton snarled to his face.

"Haven't you bothered noticing the current situation, General?" Cobra Commander deadpanned right back. "Serpentor's return complicates everything."

"He's not really my concern at the moment." Colton growled back. "I just want Wildman."

"Oh, yes. "Cobra Commander nodded. "But not in the way you think!"

Two Guardsmen emerged into the crowded hallway from the barracks, bustling along with the other soldiers for some distance. The elevators were jammed with more Cobra troops, so the stairs offered the best way to get where they'd hope to go. But the stairs were no better. Standard narrow and made from gray metal, Wildman and Angel found themselves pushed and elbowed along by rushing troops while trying to maintain their balance to avoid falling.

But the farther down they went, the traffic on the stairs lessened until it was only them. And they quickly went down to the bottom, where a security gate controlled the entrance to the Dungeons and one Guardsman enclosed in his security booth.

"State your business!" The Guardsman demanded.

Wildman approached. "Assignment to Dungeon."

The Guardsman regarded them both for a few quiet moments then went to check his monitor, that's when Wildman used his watch on him changing the Guardsman's attitude significantly.

"Ah yes, and early too." The Guardsman remarked, "I'll send you right on in."

The click of electronic locks was minor, and when the door opened the Guardsman motioned for them to enter.

"_HEY!!"_

The shout came from behind, up on the stairs. A soldier in an outfit similar to theirs but with gold and green trim and a mask that covered the lower half his face was glaring at them.

"I need volunteers! _YOU TWO!"_ he snapped, pointing at them.

"Too bad!" Wildman shot back, "we're busy." He grabbed Angel by the arm and pulled her through the door, just as who ever it was leaped down the stairs but didn't reach them before the door closed.

"What timing." Breathed Angel as they quickly moved down the corridor, away from both the station and the arguing.

"Do you have still have the tracking element?" Wildman hurriedly asked.

"Of course." She pointed at her right glove.

They quickly approached the level's control station.

"In case we get separated, act naturally." He told her, just as they reached the door.

"In this uniform?" Angel replied. " I know what a roast feels like in the oven."

The Control Center was a square room filled monitors and control stations with a table that passed for a recreation center in the far left corner that contained a coffee machine in dubious condition. Two Guardsmen were on duty, sitting at the main control board probably dozing when Wildman and Angel entered.

One nearly killed himself getting to his feet.

"Way…What, Hey! You're early!" he exclaimed, which caused the second Guardsman to stir.

"Ya, and that means you can leave early." Wildman answered back.

The Guardsman just stared at him.

"Would you rather get busted for sleeping on duty?" Wildman casually tossed out, to which the Guardsmen threw them a fast salute before hurrying out the door.

Angel quickly secured the door then checked the wall armory as Wildman began working the board. Views of prisoners languishing in their cells, empty cells, and corridors flashed across several screens as button after button was pushed. But there was no General Colton to be found; yet the tracker had him down here.

"Any luck?" Angel bustled up with an armload of weapons, mostly non-lethal riot weapons, but there were two rifles and plenty of ammunition for all.

"Not in a Cell." Wildman answered.

"Could he have escaped?" Angel asked.

Possible. Colton was quite able to do it.

Wildman quickly checked his watch. The function had the Joe Commander on the far side of the Dungeon complex, moving vertically.

Going back to the Board, he searched the area as Angel watched.

And stopped at an elevator.

"There he is, come on!"

And they left, after setting off several canisters of tear gas in the center.

Cobra Commander was quite capable of anything, which was a clear fact. But now Colton was wondering if the man in the mirrored helmet was blatantly lying, or had utterly lost it.

"Wildman…._ an extraterrestrial?"_

He glanced down. No marbles were on the floor.

"What kind of game—"

"I'm not playing." Cobra Commander evenly said. "That wasn't a Meteor that landed in the Gulf, it was a ship…_a spaceship_."

Colton could see his own disbelief mirrored on Cobra Commanders faceplate.

"I recovered it and it's passengers. They are being held at a special location, on the other side the island. I can prove myself!!"

"All you have proven is that you have finally gone off the deep end, Commander." Colton snapped back, seeing his enraged face mirrored on the cracked faceplate. "Way off the deep end."


	12. Chapter 12

Eleven.

Donnie Ayers stood waiting on the rear-landing platform with his leather jacket zipped up and slouch hat pulled low over his face. His 1928 Thompson sub-machine gun slung low across his back, easily gotten to if matters demanded it.

He'd been there since TOM took the Osprey to rescue the Joes from certain death, wondering what to do or even say to the one time battle-armored suit that he with his father's help transformed into a self-conscience A.I.

That was the problem with A.I.'s; Ayers reflected as he stood there, they were like children for most of their formable growing years. You raised them to think, and act, in a responsible manner before letting them go into the World. But there were always the unavoidable outside influences that always threatened to undo all of the work and hope put into them in the effort to give them a proper character.

_The Great Delima_; what _they_ did depended upon what _they_ learned from experience—and that was never easy to control.

What to say…Oh what to say?

You did your best, hoping they'd come out right. Hoping you didn't make massive mistakes with them.

But…

What TOM did, no matter how _correct _it was to rescue the stranded Joes from certain death, may have condemned them to a future that they hoped to avoid.

But it was done…

There was no point in continuing to hide. Yukinama, reluctantly was now freeing the Joes from their Persuader induced 'altered reality', while his wife was making a direct call to Glacier Valley with the 'bad news'.

How they'd handle it was sheer speculation. Though Ayers knew, odds on, they'd blame him as TOM's initial master—and from that point on anything was fair game. S-9's stumble paled compared to this. The only saving grace would be in _how _the damage was managed.

But then, Ayers figured, with the Joes and Hydra being in play that may as well be a foregone conclusion.

So, standing out on the rear-landing pad, he did his best to think of something to say that would make them understand. But simply, he couldn't.

The engine whine had been steadily dragging on his thoughts until he raised his head to see the Osprey on landing approach. Just seconds more till touchdown, and he still didn't know what to say.

Or, he considered, don't bother with the speech.

The Joes will want to know everything.

Unless TOM already told them…

In fact, the Osprey hadn't fully settled when the side door popped open, and out they came in following TOM while a medical team made their way to the Osprey.

TOM had mentioned injured…

Ayers tipped his hat back, and started forward…

_Here we go…_

Tom reached him first.

"Master, I." it began, but Ayers waved his creation aside.

"Go to staging and rearm." He told Tom while walking past.

TOM was hesitant at first, watching his creator calmly walk to the confrontation with the Joes. His words were simple, holding a slight, but understandable, irritation.

There was work to be done, and he had to be ready.

So he lumbered away.

Cobra Commander just couldn't shut up about aliens.

Colton had just about enough of it. Beating him into silence was a excellent thought, but soon the elevator came to a halt and he had to resume the Viper's identity.

_Maybe stuffing the Commander into one of those cells would work_, Colton wondered, _at least I wouldn't be hearing any more about aliens._

The doors opened as two, weaponry laced Crimson Guardsmen rushed up to meet it. Colton stayed close behind Cobra Commander, because he knew what Cobra Commander was capable of.

And he wasn't disappointed.

"There's a Joe in this Elevator!!" he yelled to the advancing Guardsmen.

And instantly, one revealed himself to be Kimball Wildman. Colton blinked; it wasn't like holographic projection being shut off. One moment there was a Guardsman, and then it was Wildman touching the facial frame of his watch. Even Cobra Commander was amazed to silence.

"I take it that's General Colton behind you?" Wildman directly asked.

Cobra Commander didn't answer. Colton didn't give him the chance too. For he quickly revealed himself by tearing off his Viper's helmet.

"I'd love a explanation about now!" he shouted back.

Wildman approached, intent on Cobra Commander, while twisting the face dial of his watch.

"Don't worry, you'll get one soon, General" Wildman evenly replied. "Very soon. But I need to speak with Cobra Commander first."

Something was wrong, Colton realized it. But the realization came just occurred before Wildman aimed his watch at Cobra Commander's faceplate. And after that he felt like was floating…

Then voices.

"The survivors, where are they?" Wildman's voice demanded.

"There…were…none…" Cobra Commander's voice came out slowly, passively.

There was a pause before Wildman exclaimed in astonishment, "None!"

"None…" The Commander went on. "All…dead…when we arrived at…the crash site."

Now there was a long silence, then a gentle murmuring of a female voice that was too far away to hear clearly that Colton didn't recognize.

Then Wildman again. "Where are the bodies? Everything?"

"Research…Factuality…abandoned on south…side of …island. Location…Zero-Fifteen."

And Colton was back in reality.

Wildman looked like he'd been hit with impossibly bad news, and in spite being brave about it appeared only moments away from either unleashing his anger or crying bitterly over it.

"I can show you where the factuality is." Cobra Commander began. "But for—"

Wildman hit the Commander squarely in the stomach, his face a contorted mask of vicious anger. Even with the man in front of him, Colton was slammed viciously back against the elevator's wall causing him to release Cobra Commander, who crumpled to the floor in a painful heap.

"_Do not think that you can buy favor with me!"_ Wildman growled gazing down and the struggling Commander with the most murderous intent ever seen. _"Or make me sell to the likes of you!"_

When Colton's head finally cleared, he saw Wildman as he truly was. Not much change occurred in his scared appearance, but his ears. They were large, Elvin-like that jutted out from the sides of his head like a very small set of wings fixed to his head. The left one though was missing a portion of its tip.

Colton just stared.

Cobra Commander had been the truth.

"My-" Colton began.

Wildman shot him a sharp glare.

"Were you expecting a little green guy who wants to '_phone home_'?" Wildman directed at him. "I'm so sorry to disappoint you in that regard."

Angel removed her guardsman helmet, standing uneasily as Wildman gazed down upon Cobra Commander's body with a heavy frown. "I did not plan for any of you being drawn into this affair." He began quietly, "But I will do everything to get you out of here safely. It's my responsibility."

TOM had told them everything on the flight back. It was very short, and very much to the point. But Duke had to ask because some things were bothering him because they didn't really make sense.

So he was asking Ayers, just to clarify a few points.

"If you cannot get the shuttle survivors out of Cobra's hand's, then this De-ron—" _"Devronique."_ Ayers corrected.

They called themselves _Edrailians_, more specifically _Mixes _due to the fact that for the past thousand years or so that they've been on Earth there had been breeding between the human population and the elfish aliens, producing a more hardier race than the two that could quite easily pass for human if it weren't for their ears (which besides being pointed affairs also came in a variety of shapes and sizes) and in some cases their eyes.

Everyone on board the Dom Delilegos, except the Joes, surviving members of Cobra, and the UN people still in submission, was a 'Mix'.

Ayers was one, though his body was nearly cybernetic and he maintained a human appearance due to pseudo-skin. But effectively demonstrated his cybernetic ability by taking away Roadblock's 50. Caliber Browning with shocking ease, then flipping the heavy weapon repeatedly in his hands like it was a loaf of bread before tossing it back to its owner.

Lisa Hawkern was another, and Ayers' wife—which proved surprising. And Wildman, now on Cobra Island, searching for the survivors of an Edrailian shuttle that started the whole affair by crashing not more than two miles from the Island in the Gulf--and had until dawn to find them.

And apparently so was Hydra, who managed to fool everyone.

But if they failed, what would be happening afterward was what Ayers was trying to explain to the Joes who were gathered around him in the repair area just off from the landing pad. Some listened with looks of awe, if not mild shock. But some of those who'd been sent to the Delilegos by the U.N. had their own special look, anger. Because they didn't take too kindly to what had occurred to them on the ship.

Duke just nodded and continued, "Will come down at dawn and flatten Cobra while rescuing them. I don't see anything wrong about that at all."

Apparently TOM didn't explain _everything_ to them on the way back, Ayers realized. Speeches weren't his strong point. But with everything gone to hell, he quickly got to the point.

"This is a Political situation." He began, "For centuries, House Devronique has been desiring to form a interstellar empire so to rule in their own twisted way. Two hundred years ago, this dream was stopped dead when agents of House Hawkern exposed those very plans to the then ruling House Council. As a result, Devronique lost numerous mineral-rich territories that were vital to their plans. But, a disastrous interstellar war, which would have occurred if those plans were not exposed, a war that would have definitely come to Earth due to House Hawkern's presence here, was adverted.

"Right now, the only thing that's holding House Devronique and their cronies in check is Hawkern's dominative presence amongst the current members of the ruling House Council. But, if that were to be marred in any significant way, the power will shift—"

"But what does that haft to do about…"Lift-Ticket interrupted, but since he couldn't properly pronounce the name 'Devronique', he just gestured frustrated instead before continuing, "his stomping Cobra into the ground?"

Ayers gritted his teeth and turned to answer the pilot with self-control slipping, "They'd stomp us afterward…and then exert control over _your_ world as well."

The words stunned them, and Ayers quickly regained some of his composure, "Can you imagine what governments would do if extraterrestrials suddenly appeared, friendly, helpful, _considerate?_ Especially if they just so happened to exposed another group of aliens on this planet as 'enemies' of humanity, twisting and spinning lies every which way—"

"They'd give him his way." Duke concluded.

It was easy enough to see. As politicians stumbled over themselves to please Devronique, he would be quietly undermining them with his _helpful _manner—most probably in the form of _'extraterrestrial aid'_ to solve their problems. No need for swarms of spaceships attaching the Earth, because Devronique would be enslaving the people through their _desires _for making the World a better place-- until it was too late to do anything.

If they ever realized what was going on at all…

"They'll make him Emperor, which is what his family tried doing two hundred years ago." Ayers flatly said, "And with Hawkern's power broken, there's be no stopping him."

Then a shout came over the Intercom _"DONNIE!! KIM"S CALLING!!"_

"To the forces of Lord Devronique, this is Serpentor, Emperor of Cobra—"

"Turn it off." Devronique bitterly ordered, and the accompanying Lord Admiral, who brought it to his attention, so did.

"It appears, My Lord, Merrimeck failed." The Lord Admiral simply stated.

Devronique just angrily snorted while walking to the observation deck.

Below him there was the nerve center for his personal fleet, a gigantic room where information of all sort was properly processed before going onto where it would do the most good. Serpentor's message had been treated this way before being sent directly to Devronique as he was being dressed in a special battle dress made especially for the occasion, delivered by the Lord Admiral of the Fleet himself.

He could use the broadcast to push the Council into allowing him to act swifter, forgoing the dawn arrival. But, he realized the Council would want a detailed explanation as to _how_ Serpentor knew about him in the first place, as well as broadcasting to him on his secured frequency no less. Worse, if any Monitors from the Council herd the broadcast, there would be plenty of devastating questions administered under the presence of a Persuader, ripping the truth out of him.

The Council, idiots that they were, weren't fools taken in easily.

He'd haft to wait till the clock ran down.

But Merrimeck failed. Devronique gripped the railing, desiring to scream out in rage with all his might. His best assassin failed him inexcusably.

Now all Devronique could do was hope that Serpentor created enough of an interference to thwart Hawkern, thus burying the assassin's gaff.

"Begin initial fleet preparedness." Devronique ordered without turning around.

Serpentor stopped speaking into the microphone, because even he knew there were limits to how long one could stay doing remedial things.

And if Devronique wasn't going to answer him, then just let him try coming down for the hostages. He'd personally teach the insolent 'Lord' some long remembered lessons in manners.

"My Emperor!" a communications operator swiveled in her seat to him. "A call from the Night Creeper's has come in for you."

"Display on main monitor!!" Serpentor ordered, and with a few stroked buttons the Emperor was face to face with a red masked ninja.

"Area is secure. Minor losses taken by us. All of the defenders have been eliminated, and the B.A.T.'s are being reprogrammed and redeployed." The Night Creeper reported. "We'll be entering the main holding area soon."

"Be sure not to harm the treasure with in that structure." Serpentor nodded, and added with a very definite tone. _"Or you will pay."_

"It shall be guarded with my very life, Emperor!" the Night Creeper bowed obediently.

Serpentor smiled at that, such loyalty was most deserving.

"I shall be arriving there in thirty minutes." He stated, and shut off the line before the ninja could reply then turned to a near-by Crimson Guardsmen with gold braids on this shoulder.

"Have my Air Chariot prepared—in twenty minutes time!" he ordered.

Things were moving at incredible speed onboard the Dom Delilegos.

With a good portion of the Edrailian raiding force incapacitated by Hydra's sabotage, the Joes stepped into help out and quickly filled in any intelligence gaps the rescuers had on Cobra, some of which were quite glaring. Scarlett took a great deal of pleasure in making those facts clear to Yukinama and Ms. Candy, who stood there fuming over it. And once those matters were set and straight, a small advanced team was assembled, briefed, and dispatched to the best spot for a surprise landing.

Of the eight bird-like 'Jumpers', as they called their Assault/Support aircraft, they had brought along, only four were usable right away. A fifth could fly, but only with significant repairs, which Ayers and what remained of the ship's technical group along with his own people worked on when they arrived, hurriedly worked on with what usable parts could be scavenged from the ruined Jumpers.

Given the bad news concerning the crash survivors, five was all they'd need.

With most of their munitions depleted, the Joes had to avail themselves to what the Edrailians had—which were surprisingly similar in the fact that they were firearms, but using caseless ammunition instead.

Compact sub-machine guns using hi-capacity helical magazines mounted to their tops, and robust dual-triggered assault rifles, which used the compact Bull-pup design with the grenade launcher portion mounted across the top of the rifle and magazine fed as well—but behind the rifles' magazine. Hawkern took to demonstrating them with theatrical style on the landing pad near the Ospery-Jet. After devastating an empty supply crate for them, she let the Joes have their shot at the rest.

But the Portable Armored Suits—PAS, or 'Pass', as they described them, gained the biggest amount of interest.

S-9's versions were virtual knights in cybernetic armor, far leaner and graceful than TOM in appearance and capable of carrying an equal amount of firepower as a tank squadron and move twice as fast. Comparisons became inevitable when the _Angelstar_, a long narrow craft with stubby fins at its rear and a flat slab running down most of it's back, which TOM explained was his master's personal ship, arrived with more bulkier PAS's, technicians and assorted other things. It didn't look like what they'd expect a 'alien spaceship' to appear as, especially as it's front opened up like a Galaxy transport they were very much used to, delivering twenty more PAS's down it's front ramp that by comparison were much more bulkier that the Special Forces versions the Joe's marveled over.

"Those are standard infantry PAS." He explained, while pointing at the arrivals. "They're meant to go into the middle of battles like all good soldiers. And to insure that they come back, they've got more armoring and fewer pod attachments beyond additional munitions storage."

"They kinda look like you." Dial Tone pointed out.

"I'm a older model." TOM told him, tapping the side of his head. "But with a advanced brain."

The 'Staffers' were another interesting item. They started out looking like giant rectangular slabs of concrete, about the size of common sedan; before Ayers' people began adding it's wings, engines and various weaponry mounts. Taking only twenty minutes, each became a flying weapons platform with swivel-mounted auto-cannons at either end of its body and wingtips, swivel mounted grenade launchers in either side of it's flat body, and missiles fireable from drop down launchers extended from its underside.

The Joes watched, sizing the vehicle up for its effectiveness as TOM explained to them what its usage was.

"They're drones, slightly out of date with their more modern counterparts," Tom explained, "but still effective in the matter of suppressing any ground bases force or installation."

"Or, provide coverage to any assaulting force." Beachhead added.

"That too." TOM nodded.

As usual, the Harbor Master slept on duty.

He had an underling, a not so very bright kid who managed to survive Cobra Basic, watch the board and do the harbor tour with the more seasoned Vipers who didn't really do their job with any real seriousness, since the duty itself was so easy and the pay right.

Besides, nobody had the nerve to try anything against them, not even a foreign country, unless they wanted trouble.

So they were lax, painfully lax.

Which is what the Joe/Edrailian team was hoping for.

Four members of the hybrid team moved swiftly through the jungle growth that bordered most of the harbor's outward edge, taking positions that gave them excellent advantage with their silenced high-powered rifles. The remaining six were in the harbor, near the surface, with Wet-Suit, Torpedo, and Deep-Six in borrowed tight-fitting one-piece swimsuits with full facial masks and rebreathing systems. They could stay down for days before needing to surface, but were waiting for word from their team members' topside.

After several minutes, it came over the COM. _"One, six targets on dock preoccupied at center."_

"_Two, same as one. No other activity."_

"_Three, Barracks full of sleepers. Two buildings, one with ten—other empty."_

"_Four, None in Motor Pool, or Mess. One asleep in main building."_

The squad leader was a lean faced woman with a very cold way of speaking. "In thirty, we move from edges inward."

She quickly split the group in half, Wet-Suit moving with her and two others to the left side while Torpedo and Deep-six went right with the last two.

"Stay with your buddy." She told them as they parted.

_Old School_, Torpedo though, but it wasn't his place to argue.

In seconds, the first member was in place on the shore, covering for the others with his silenced sub-machine gun as they broke surface with well-trained silence while drawing their silenced-weapons from waterproofed holsters and carry bags. Docked patrol boats and occasional crate along the harbor dock gave them cover until they reached the spot where the Vipers were playing cards.

"_Three Barracks cleared. Joining Four."_ There would be no additional Vipers to worry about.

"_Four, Sleeper is now permanent. Waiting for Three."_

The rebreathers gave their users no trouble when they aimed their weapons at the unsuspecting Vipers, everything fitted together perfectly and the Hilo-sight gave them all excellent range.

"_Three, Four together."_

The two could be seen aiming their weapons on the Vipers from the main building.

"Fire!"

The Vipers on the Dock were caught in five different directions by silenced weapons fire. Money, cards, and bodies went everywhere lurching and toppling over themselves and the crate that was their playing table. After a few more bursts into the bodies, for assurance, the Commander gave the clear signal.

"Alright! We got word!" the tech said.

Duke didn't say anything, the nod he gave was sufficient. After an hour's wait, they were ready to go. And soon he and all who could ran for the available aircraft. The Special Forces personal launched themselves into the air in the PAS, resembling angels taking flight, while the Jumpers, the Osprey-Jet, and even the Cobra Assault Carrier were warming up.

To this, Duke ran to. Of course, there would be questions about its use, there always were. But in this case, he wasn't worried about having to answer them. That was someone else's problem.

Once in, Duke closed the doors and heaved himself into the co-pilots seat next to Lift-Ticket.

"Think you can fly this thing?" he joked.

Lift-Ticket didn't say anything at first. Then as Duke wondered if the pilot had lost his sense of humor, Lift-Ticket turned to him as said, "Do you think all of this is just a dream, Duke?"

And really, Duke couldn't answer. Science Fiction never really grabbed him as a child, and he preferred to think of himself as being 'practical minded'—it helped to keep his feet on the ground. Now, getting knocked off his feet and having his world turned upside-down, Duke did the only thing that came to mind that could help him to answer. He glanced back into the Carrier's bay, seeing Hawkern sitting next to Ayers in a meditative pose while her husband quietly examined his antique Thompson—when not casting a warning glance at any Joe who's gaze lingered too long on his wife.

And he turned back to Lift-Ticket to answer, "Why don't you ask me after I wake up?"

Wildman remained cool, even after stuffing the dead Guardsmen into one cell and Cobra Commander into another. The air of icy silence surrounded him such as he stood before the cell's door that not even Angel could get him to respond.

He acknowledged them only when he wanted to, Colton observed, figuring out why was very easy indeed.

"There's nothing more that you can do for them." He quietly said to him, "Lets get moving."

For moments, there was no change in his stance before the door. Then he started to turn towards Colton.

"Friends will recover the bodies and the flight recorder." Wildman told them in a definite but detached manner. "Plan was to effect Cobra's defenses with a looping virus so to let them in, and we'd join them out --."

Then he winced. "Damn! I hadn't set the Looper up yet!!"

"Ok," Colton nodded, glad that Wildman was coming back to reality, "what do we need?"

"Computer access to the main system." Wildman replied. "I have the code and the keys to do it."

"We dumped tear-gas in the Control Room for this area." Angel replied sickly.

Colton was about to ask if there any other such systems in the area when Wildman face suddenly lit up, "The Sentry Post. That'll work!"

Colton nodded and after getting Wildman to calm down enough to redisguise himself as a Guardsman, they made the trek back to the Post in an outright run in mere minutes. There, Wildman literally forced himself to be composed before sneaking up on the Guardsman to use the Watch on him. As Colton and Angel covered him, Wildman manipulated his watch while calmly directing the Guardsman through the necessary paces of installing the 'Looper'. When the key codes to set it in place for activation, it took three tries before the right key was found and Guardsman activated the system.

Then the Guardsman was commanded to let them leave the Dungeon Sector, and soon the three were heading up the stairs with Colton taking the front with Angel and Wildman following behind.

"Wonder how long it'll be before he realizes something's occurred?" Angel supposed.

"He shouldn't come around to the fact too quickly." Wildman answered. "I just hope they don't do a service-log download for a few hours."

"Concentrate on the present, Doctor." Colton remarked over his shoulder, "Spend less time worrying."

After a few flights of stairs, Colton paused at an access door that he opened just enough to look on the other side puzzling those behind them.

"What is it?" Angel hoarsely gasped between breaths.

"Figuring we could meet Wildman's friends much faster by elevator than by the stairs." he quietly replied, still looking.

"Figure the stairs may have gotten to you." Angel candidly remarked, which earned her a frown from Colton.

After a minute, he motioned to them to follow him through the door.

It was a corridor level no different from the other such ordinary security levels, gray in color with doors that were numbered with some telling what they were and very few soldiers present.

_Fourth floor_, Colton glanced, figuring by those numbers. Soon, the floor guide they stopped at proved that, along with showing where they were and which elevators lead to which rooftop helipads.

"Any preferences?" Colton asked Wildman.

"Quick and easy. Preferably on the north side on the building."

Colton traced his finger along that portion of the map from the indicator of where they were in relation to everything, and then back.

"Follow me."

They followed Colton while carefully keeping a lookout for any Cobra personal who could give them any level of trouble that Wildman's Watch couldn't be readied to get them out of. A right turn lead them down one last corridor to where the elevator was, with no persons or obstructions to stop them.

"Here we go." Colton announced

He hit the call button, and instantly the doors of an elevator on the wall left of them opened to thee people each dressed like a Guardsmen, but theirs were trimmed in Gold and Green with identical helmets that didn't hide their harsh gazes.

"Ha! _Volunteers_!" Exclaimed the middle one in a voice both Wildman and Angel instantly recognized, as he quickly seized both Wildman and Angel at gunpoint while his companions trained their weapons on Colton, warning them to stay back.

"You have now _volunteered_ for duty to guard his Royal Emperor, Serpentor!" the middle one continued. "Revel in the glory of serving in his presence!"

And the doors closed, leaving Colton alone.

The operators dutifully performed their tasks of keeping the Island safe. Rarely would they even look away from the numerous monitor screens and radar scopes that helped them in their perpetual vigil. Every vehicle movement was recorded and monitored, and all stations throughout the Island dutifully reported in with their specific code indicating that all was well.

Of course, it was anything but.

Slowly, the Island's integrity was being probed and compromised with swift efficiency from outside—and from within.

The "Looper" within their systems constantly blocked any alarms from occurring by simply blanking out any incoming intrusions from the systems, so no alarms of any kind were raised from radar or video surveillance. Security codes were copied and passed along to the assaulting group already on the Island, as were the codes for the areas not subject to immediate assault were set up to register with the main controllers as being "ok"—and would be even while being attacked.

The advanced forces set themselves up at the small harbor, readying acquired vehicles and various Cobra equipment for their use. The group was fully mixed at this point, though there was some uneasiness among the Edrailians concerning the Joes not knowing how '_they_' did things some quick fast-talking was used to smooth out any difficulties in communications so the operation could proceed as planned.

In that aspect, the Joes were glad to help out. Especially Mercer, who knew what to expect.

"Cobra Commander is absolutely paranoid about security." He quickly explained to them before they set out in their small convoy. "There are several check-points on every road, each with a small garrison of soldiers ready for rapid deployment at the first sign of trouble.

"And each of these garrisons controls various stretches of mined roads, the Garrison's Commander has the keys for that."

That at least prepared them.

Mercer's Convoy started along the first road eastward while Wet-Suit's went westward on the same road. Using the barrowed equipment and vehicles, they began quietly eliminating the small security garrisons in the northern area in the time that they had. For if things went badly for the main group, they would start a secondary attack upon Cobra in earnest to draw away any forces attacking the main group.

For as long as it was needed…

There were other things as well occurring.

Cobra Commander regained enough of his strength after lying on the floor for several minutes to at least try standing, which hurt terribly where Wildman had hit him—but only made him want to get moving all that much faster.

The cell he was in was standard, metal walls with a small metal toilet was all it had, comforts weren't really built in since punishment in Cobra was quite extreme in all cases and escape impossible…

Unless, like the Commander, he had planned on being stuck down here at some point--and set about ways of making an escape.

A wall panel next to the door, slightly higher than where one would expect a touch pad to be, keyed only to his hand print caused the toilet to rise off the floor revealing a shaft that offered a short drop to a service duct that ran beneath the Dungeon level. Once there, he touched another pad that lowered the toilet back to its proper place.

Then he pulled himself along the duct to a specific intersection, where another key panel in the ducts ceiling revealed access to a ladder that he used to reach a small cubbyhole room not readily located on any 'current' plans or maps of the Control Complex. Another bit of planning for the worst on the Commander's part, the room he was now in had a computer terminal with direct access to the central mainframe.

'_Lets see how the mighty Serpentor deals with this!'_ Cobra Commander mentally laughed to himself as he keyed in.

The computer was balky, ignoring his commands or simply redirecting them to nodes far from the ones he needed to access in-system. Three tries later he started in on the master codes themselves, could it be that they had anticipated such a move, he wondered…

No, they were all fine. Everything was where it was suppose to be, nothing erased nothing altered.

It was just that the Central Computer was under the control of something else that altered all incoming data so it gave false reports to the operators, and diverted any inquiries to other areas…

Cobra Commander stared at the computer's screen thinking of what to do next.

Mindbender was thinking on how the pen worked.

On an examination table, beneath a lit magnifying lens the internal components of Hydra's Persuader Pen were tactfully displayed in an order of their removal from the pen casing and separation from each other, as its owner sat slumped over and secured to the metal chair. Mindbender didn't give the assassin much thought; the Edrailian was more pathetic than threatening.

But the Pen was marvelous. The degree of compactability of the components was just beyond the power of the lens he was using. To study it further, Mindbender needed the Electron Microscopes in the Science Section. They should be able to give a much better view of the micro components and circuitry he so gently moved under the lens with gloved hands.

Oh yes, he could solve it. It'll take time, but it was possible.

Building it was the same way. He already figured that most of the components were at the microscopic level in size, if not molecular in configuration, far more advanced than his Brainwave Scrambler, lying off to the side on some control panel. The advantage it could give Cobra to have something that small which could affect the minds of many, and not be so oblivious.

And while he was considering the possibilities, he also reflected on the fact that leaving his Brainwave Scrambler just lying about was utterly careless of him. Until Cobra Commander was 'properly disposed of', he chastened himself for not having it with him always.

Anyhow, he needed to get up for a few minutes. His body was cramped from sitting so long in a hunched over position while studying the Pen, a little movement and a break from the examination would do him good. And Hydra was still slumped over in the chair, so no worry…

But just as Mindbender picked up the Scrambler from the board, Hydra swiftly, silently, freed himself from the chair. Then with a single leap, Hydra smashed Mindbender's skull with the metal chair, and kept bashing away until it was certain that the Cobra Scientist would never be getting up again.

Then Hydra dropped the chair and turned to his beloved ballpoint pen.

The fool wrecked it. Hydra could tell by just looking at how the components were all separated out. Several of the minute connections were torn from their placements, and he had no means of repairing the mess with him.

Looking back at Mindbender, enraged enough to do more to the body, was then Hydra spotted the Brainwave Scrambler, lying by Mindbender's feet. It was crude in comparison to his pen and not at all easy to conceal, but it could perform the job.

Lift-Ticket settled the Assault Carrier down at a small landing field that had fallen into disuse, but far enough away from the deserted factuality to avoid suspicion, or so they hoped.

"Certain the Section-9 people did their job?" Duke tentatively asked Ayers.

"If they didn't," Ayers replied, "They can forget about ever going home."

"_Oh we did our job, Professor."_ Miss Candy's voice was quite sharp and ever cold coming over the com-net_. "But we're wondering if His Highness got the right directions…"_

"There's doubt?" Duke quickly radioed back.

"_No. It's just that the place looks like it was used for target practice."_ Miss Candy replied. _"The only thing the place is good for is growth support for the surrounding jungle."_

_Well, the Island did take a low-level nuke, _Duke thought

"Ever hear of camouflage?" Beachhead annoyed spoke up.

"There's a whole list of things S9 hasn't herd of." Hawkern put in.

"People please!" Duke snapped back at the group, then said to Miss Candy, "Root through the place, get out of your suits if you haft to. But it's a certain bet that place is it."

"How certain?"

This was unbelievable. Even with the damage done to them and their faulty intelligence concerning Cobra, Section-Nine still wanted to be in complete charge of this show. Having to share really put them out, and Duke was ready to give them a grand old-fashioned chewing-out over their attitude when his own self-control kicked in.

"Cobra Commander's a fox, a very sly and cunning fox. He could have easily had the remains hidden away in his main command center, but then anyone would have gotten to them. He wants them where only _he'll_ know where they are. And the safest place for that is where people least expect…_now start looking!!"_

"That'll get em' moving." Hawkern smiled.

"Duke's gotta' way with people." Roadblock added.

"Yea," Duke replied. " If they if they don't do things the right way, I stay on them until they do…Now lets _move!"_


	13. Chapter 13

Twelve.

Wildman worried about Angel. It wasn't the worry of one who knew the other would crack under pressure. No, it was another kind of worry, one he hadn't felt in a very long time—that over a friend or loved one in danger. It was an odd to be feeling it now, being more responsible for her than being close to her in an intimate way. But there it was, fluttering around his organized mind as the lead Guardian Bearer, as these new style Cobra 'elite' called themselves, told them what their 'new position' curtailed.

"You will be riding with the Supreme Leader in his personal sky chariot as _HE_ personally travels to inspect a secret location, which contains the key to herald forth the new age for the whole World!"

The guy was typical vermin material, using his imposing body and loud rough voice to scare the unsuspecting into compliance. Such was the typical archetype of the Cobra Soldier, a cog in a machine that relied on brutal force and lies to achieve its goals.

Wildman knew the type and herd the spiel before; he also could drop each of them, with or without Angel's help. But, he also knew they were stuck where they were.

At least the Guardian was talking about what he was looking for, and Serpentor was heading there tonight. One problem solved, and another one taking its place.

The elevator was slowing down. There was no time for stupid heroics that could get them both captured or killed. So, he just hoped that Angel would keep her cool, and that things would turn in their favor.

The elevator's doors opened into the mugginess of the summer night, and the special helipad where several odd vehicles were assembled around one that could easily be described as a chariot. Several more Guardians were there, loitering while waiting near vehicles that alerted Wildman because their design looked too familiar…

Maxum Sky-Bikes, modified…. What are they doing here?

"_Move it!!"_ Yelled the Guardian, who wasn't hesitant in forcefully shoving both of them out on to the tarmac. Both were able to keep their balance in spite the force of the shove, but only after a lot of trying. Nor was there any time to really look the aerial bikes over, and Wildman wasn't about to take risks now.

"Fresh meat?" one of the Guardians asked

"_Volunteers!"_ thundered the lead Guardian from behind the Joes, and proceeded to give them another shove forward. "To gloriously serve or great Emperor!"

There was an audible sigh coming from one member of the group, and the vile Guardian threw a fit.

"Do not mock your Emperor with such rude behavior!! Your very existence his for _HIM_ to decide!!"

"Which in so many words means that if these 'volunteer's _you _found screw up, Serpentor will want _your_ head."

Wildman couldn't see the vile Guardian's reaction. But he did hear him suck in some air in a most startled way, which made him smile.

"Don't mind Bart, he takes things way too literally." said one Guardian as he approached. "But, the duty isn't to be taken lightly. Both of you will be guarding Serpentor at all times, and there'll be no excuses accepted for not doing as you are ordered. Understand?"

"Understood." Angel nodded, her voice muffled and throaty—but still too feminine.

Wildman froze.

The civil Guardian looked at her oddly, "You feeling well?"

He gave a quick glance at Bart then back to Angel. "You certainly don't sound like it."

Everything was fine right up to when Angel spoke, in Wildman's mind. A grunt with nod would have sufficed, but she for some reason had to speak--doing a very poor imitation of a man's voice in spite the helmet covering her face and mouth. But for some surprising reason, the Civil Guardian was thinking along different lines

Angel realized her error, and the opportunity as well. She quickly touched her throat and shook her head.

Wildman hoped.

The Civil Guardian looked at the Vile Guardian irritated. "You know Bart, pulling 'volunteers' from the sick bay isn't such a grand ideal."

The Vile Guardian began sputtering, but Wildman gave a sniffle that made the Civil Guardian really glare at his ruder counter-part before gently leading Angel and Wildman towards a second elevator.

"Can't have either of you passin' off germs to the Emperor," he told them while escorting them along. "Best go back to sick-bay for your own good."

Wildman nodded in agreement, not even believing how miraculous his luck had turned. But the shanghaiing had cost them time. He worried about Colton being alone in the Complex and hoped he still had the tracker with him.

Now they had a second chance, for the Guardian was leading them away from certain peril to another elevator…

Which opened up just as they arrived, and Serpentor stepped out.

"What is this!!" The Emperor demanded, gazing at them all as if they rudely intruded upon his presence instead of the other way around_. "What are you doing!!"_

The Civil Guardian did his best, but his stammered explanation did them all no good. Serpentor quickly drew his long sword and struck him dead with the first blow.

"_Weakness be damned!!"_ Serpentor shouted at them_. "We shall fight together, and we shall die together—there will be no exceptions!!"_

And they were forcefully turned back to the landing pad.

TOM had expressed control over the Osprey-Jet from it's cargo section, though it was Wild Bill in the cockpit gripping the simple joystick controls who had initial command and Yukinama keeping a close, and worried, eye on the I/P Deflectors that made them literally invisible to unmarried radar and the naked eye. And being especially close to the blind side of the main building of the Cobra Command Complex, stealth was not only necessary but also expected from all its evasive systems—including the engine mufflers.

It would have been Yukinama's place to lead the rescue assault. But with the integration of the Joes and the failure to consider Hydra's _true_ loyalties, it was consider lucky to even being part of the operation at all—and not under arrest for her carelessness. And in a subservient role which she hated.

"How's it look?" Wild Bill quietly asked.

Yukinama debated for a few moments. She knew she was the one being addressed and resented being considered a subordinate, which she was on the flight, but it was either take a more active role or be reported for her flawed command that nearly ruined the whole operation.

"We're pushing it." She replied, the worry edging over the resentment in her voice.

"We'll be at site on one minute." Wild Bill casually replied.

"That will push it." Yukinama sternly replied.

"Don't worry about it, I 'm not." Wild Bill easily said, and then keyed his radio. "Tom, you about ready back there?"

"As I'll ever be." The distinctive British tone came back over the speaker. "I have both markers tagged, and tracked."

"Good, thirty till landing." Wild Bill ordered. "Crack the door."

There were many other 'improvements' Cobra Commander had made while the Command Complex was refurbished, like the special one man elevators specially concealed within the main building supports with the doors hidden by very skillfully positioned wall panels that could only be opened from within. Perfect for situations like the one he was in now.

But, there were always inconveniences to any well-laid plans. Like the two Vipers who for some unfathomable reason were relaxing next in the exact spot where the concealed elevator door was. If he hadn't seen them on the monitor, he would have stepped out into a bad surprise. But still, of all places, it made the Commander want to scream in frustration. If he was still in command of Cobra, and had caught them as they were, they would be doing more than just the garbage detail…they would be doing garbage detail in the Arctic, until they died.

Of course, he did have other means of dealing with the matter. Commander readied his silenced sub-machine gun for quick use, and along with the element of surprise the matter solved before they could even react to him.

Then a third person appeared in the outside corridor just as Cobra Commander was about to open the door.

"Excuse me."

It was Hydra. His once nice clothes now ratty, and his hair a mess, but there he stood before the armed Vipers as if his appearance wasn't a concern.

"You two." Hydra addressed the Vipers in a gentle, grandfatherly sort of voice. "Could I have a moment of your time?"

Of course the Vipers went into combat readiness, but Hydra had the odds in his favor—with Mindbenders portable Brainwave Scanner.

"Please," he said, holding the weapon while still smiling, "Lower your weapons. I mean you no harm…See, I have no weapons. I'm harmless."

If he wasn't using the Scanner, the Vipers would have riddled Hydra on the spot, or at least move to detain him. But under the control of Mindbenders pride and joy, they couldn't even see it and lowered their weapons to the ground.

But, Hydra should be on the Dom Delilegos. _What was he doing here? _Cobra Commander wondered.

If Serpentor attacked the ship, that was it for Cobra. Of course, placing the blame squarely upon Mindbender's mish-mashed creation could possibly reverse a goodly chunk of the hell would fall upon the organization as a result. At least there'd be something left, and Cobra Commander knew he'd be spared most of it. Serpentor was known, and well beyond anyone's control.

But why was Hydra here? And further more, Cobra Commander thought as he watched the screen, _what if Serpentor was right about him._

He'd find out, soon enough…

"There, you see, there's nothing wrong." Hydra continued, but then shifted to a graver tone. "But, there is something wrong, very wrong, occurring on this island at this very moment. A blight had descended here. A liar, coward and scoundrel, a creation of foul science and consuming greed who so proclaims himself "Emperor of Cobra"…Do you know who he is?"

Almost in unison, the Vipers rallied back, _"Serpentor!!"_

"He claims his leadership of Cobra by right of Strength!!" Hydra continued, now sounding more like a minister, "He claims to have lead armies, ruled empires, conquered millions upon millions of people…

"But," Hydra added gently, "have either of you ever seen him do this?"

The Vipers shook their heads in silence.

"_NO—HE HAS NOT!!"_ Hydra shrieked so loudly that even Cobra Commander jumped in surprise. "Serpentor, the 'Great Cobra Emperor' has not defeated whole armies, nor their nations, nor their citizens!!

"He has achieved nothing but defeat time after time after time in battle!! I say to you both, should this so called 'Emperor' be allowed to continue leading!"

"No!" shouted the Vipers_. "He should not!!"_

And then he saw them, Hydra's ears. They weren't as noticeable as Wildman's were with his hair, but Hydra's were definitely the same. Only smaller.

"Then I beseech you to bring this 'Emperor down! Expose this liar, chasten this coward! Scrub this blight from the Land!!!"

"Yes, we will!!" shouted the Vipers, who gathered up their weapons and rushed off down the corridor—as Hydra watched with a wide smile on his face.

It was then that Cobra Commander came out of hiding. The elevator doors were silent, so Hydra wasn't aware of him until he felt the silencer's muzzle against the back of his neck.

He stiffened in surprise.

"Why aren't you on board the Dom Delilegos, Doctor?" Cobra Commander quietly asked.

A few moments later, Hydra sputtered out an answer, "The ship was attacked. I came back to the island to see if you had lost your mind."

_Likely excuse._ Cobra Commander wasn't about to trust Hydra enough to let his guard down now, especially not now.

In fact, it gave him the ideal to start searching Hydra as he said, "As you can see, there's been problems."

Hydra didn't protest when the Scanner was taken away. Of course with the muzzle still pressed against his neck, he made no moves that would cause a messy death.

He was already in deep trouble; best not make it worst with the one who could protect him.

"I ran into Serpentor." Hydra continued. "Mindbender is with him. Or was with him."

"Yes." Cobra Commander stated. "He spoke at length about you."

Hydra became quite silent after that.

Cobra Commander spun him around, placing the muzzle under Hydra's chin while glaring right into Hydra's face. Being made a fool of angered him beyond belief, and there were quite a few things he would have loved to do to Hydra right at the moment. But killing the opportunity before him would by a horrendous waste.

One thing at a time…

"Where…is…_Mindbender_?" growled Cobra Commander. The name spat out with clear viciousness.

"Dead." Hydra sputtered. "I killed him with a metal chair."

Cobra Commander said nothing. He killed the original Mindbender by burying him alive in the old freighter near the mountain, then a second time by shooting the clone when he'd finally had enough of the scientist's treachery. And in turn, Mindbender left behind the ability of re-cloning both himself and Serpentor, possibly in more than one place.

That Cobra Commander needed to know.

"Where are the cloning chambers!!"

"B-back in the jungle…There's a secret passage in the lower level of the Complex"

"Show me…" Cobra Commander growled…

He wasn't about to make that certain mistake a second time. Nor another one with Hydra, he made certain on that by using the Scanner on the hapless Edrailian.

The running block pulled off to the side of the road about a half a kilometer from the derelict research center. Encountering little in the way of resistance in getting there, they took the time to set up disruptions on any internal power and communications lines they came across. Even booby-trapping several vehicles and munitions chases at numerous stations along the way, after taking what they needed to continue.

Most of the force went into the jungle, traveling by foot the remainder of the way to the target. Two stayed behind with the Joes to wait for the main force, which arrived minutes later with the Ayers' brought PAS's.

"Problems?" Asked the forces commander.

"The advanced group is looking over the area." Scarlett professionally explained. "Ms Candy raised doubts about the place. The rest of our group have gone on ahead to—"

Then Ms Candy's voice came over the radio quite clearly, _"We've got a problem. Fifty jacks are buried in the box with trips everywhere above. We cannot avoid making noise."_

Not enviable, but not impossible—they resigned themselves.

"Can you jam their radio?" Scarlett asked the Commander.

"We can even mark where the trips are." Nodded the Commander, who quickly motioned to two of his squad.

"They've set up light trips." Ayers stated.

At the same time, one hundred yards away, the decrepit facially was a giant shadow hidden from the full moon by the surrounding jungle that slowly consumed it. Even with his enhanced night-vision goggles, Duke and all of the Joes could see the threads of lights criss-crossing the ground and raining down from the trees. He knew Hawkern had such equipment, but Ayers didn't nor wanted any. So Duke reasoned he shouldn't be able to see spit with the overhead canopy.

Unless…

"And mines along the easier paths." He continued. "There's also B.A.T's in the bushes."

"How'd he figure that?" Leatherneck suddenly remarked.

Duke reared back. The Gunny's voice was a little too loud for convenience sake, and he was about to ask Ayers the same thing himself.

"The jungle floor has been disturbed in spots, and I'm detecting a electrical field." Ayers went on without any reaction. "And it looks like the trips are set up by remote, easier to set—"

"Donny," Hawkern then whispered, "stop freaking them out any more than they already are."

And Duke had just about enough, "Quiet!!" he rasped. Then turned to Ayers for an explanation, and stopped…

Ayers' eyes were glowing. Duke was right, there was a lot more to him than just bodily strength.

Hawkern nudged her husband from behind, "Now look at what you did."

"What am I suppose to do? Let them walk into a trap?" Ayers whispered quickly back.

By then Duke recovered himself. "_Stop arguing, both of you!_"

"We're married, we can argue whenever." Hawkern whispered indignantly back, before Ayers could quiet her with a low hiss.

"Oh wonderful." Lift-Ticket muttered in the rear, but Duke was beyond chastising anyone at the moment.

"You figured they could be shut down remotely. " Duke whispered to Ayers, "How so?"

Ayers, after turning from his wife, pointed at the field before them. "Notice that the tops of each trip has a small receiver aperture pointed towards the building? Apparently, either a light beam or radio transmitter that shuts them on and off, and we can do the same to most by bouncing such off that bit of wall ahead of us."

"Like a TV Remote." Roadblock figured.

"Exactly." Ayers whispered back.

"Can you shut it down from here?" Duke asked.

"When I find the right channel." nodded Ayers, as he reached into his jacket.

"Wait a moment." Duke figured it could be done, and would let Ayers do it since he knew what he was doing. But at that moment, Scarlett wanted his attention over the radio.

"We're at the front, ready to enter. Are you having problems?"

Duke gave a quick response about the trip-alarms they encountered and how he intended to deal with them.

"Wait a moment." Scarlett advised, and Duke with his team waited as the seconds dragged by before she returned.

"Go a head and set them off, but from a distance." She stated. "From what the scouts say, they're expecting a frontal attack more than a rearward one."

Interesting, Duke would have covered his rear equally as his front in such a case, with a little bit more to surprise anyone thinking of a quick flank attack.

Cobra's mistake, not his.

"Ok people, change of plans… Duke told them all.

"What do you mean, _no communications possible!_"

Serpentor's voice rose to the level of an Opera star's as he glared down upon the unfortunate Tele-Viper from his Air Chariot, right over Angel's head.

"T-the Computer controls all aspects of the Base." The Tele-Viper managed to bleat out. "With it down—"

"_THEN FIX IT!!!_" Serpentor roared back, his right hand dangerously close to this sword. All it would take would be the impulse to do it, since the Viper had no spine, which disgusted Serpentor to say the least.

But just then explosions were heard to the south. Serpentor turned at once and saw the fireball starting it's blossoming rise into the sky…right where the facially was.

"_SOUND THE ALARM!!"_ Serpentor cried out. _"We're under attack!!"_

"_Tracker one on landing pad."_ TOM communicated

Just as they cleared the building's rise, Wild Bill and Yukinama spotted a Viper running across the landing tarmac who was throwing off his helmet and removing scarlet face covering--revealing himself to be General Colton. After that, the pilots quickly turned the Ospery-Jet and landed with the rear ramp lowered—which Colton ran for.

And stopped when a fully armored and armed TOM came shuffling down the ramp.

"Oh! Please excuse me." TOM boomed, with a polite tip of his hat to him. "I'll be out of your way shortly."

Colton could only watch in silence as the giant robot trundled off the ramp and onto the tarmac, where he unfurled a massive set of wings from it's large back.

"Wild Bill is in the Osprey's cockpit—and very anxious to see you." It told Colton before soaring up and over the tarmac's edge and downward.

In moments, Colton was in the cockpit.

"Welcome back, General." Wild Bill grinned.

"Nice to be back!" Colton smiled back at the Texan. "What's the situation?

" Quite unusual." Wild Bill replied, starting off with a short personal observation, which earned a sideways glare from Yukinama. "Main group's assaulting the facility in the south that has what they're looking for. Two secondary groups are ripping apart the Island's infrastructure, and we're here to cause some serious damage--"

And just at that moment a fuel dump below blew up, sending plumes of fire and wreckage skyward.

"Wee…which is currently underway." Wild Bill commented. "And also to get Wildman and somebody else along with you out of here."

"Well that part's become complicated." Colton stated, and told them what happened. "Angel has one of Wildman's tracking devices, and they're both together. They should be near here."

"Any ideal where they're presently at?" Yukinama coolly asked.

Off in the distance to the south, several more explosions occurred in time with several more going off beneath them. It looked like a vehicle depot this time, judging from the mixture of ordinance and vehicle parts arching through the air.

"I bet the south, Doctor." Colton plainly told her. "And I'm quite surprised to see you here."

Yukinama coolly remained polite, but Colton could see she wanted him elsewhere.

"There's no need to make it worse." Wild Bill quietly told her.

They had backed off at least a twenty yards by Duke's reckoning when the sound of firing missiles and their impact upon the facility was distinctly heard. Great orange globes of fire appeared side-by-side, where the larger portions of the facility once stood, then the distinctive sound of small arms rattled away in the night as Scarlett's invitation to them came over the radio, _"Come on in!!"_

And they did, in a sweeping arch formation perfect for dealing with anything that came their way. Especially the light-trips in their path, which they set off by shooting at—timed perfectly to deal with the Battle Android Troopers who came out of hiding when the Joes attacked. At least Ayers and Hawkern didn't rush right in as he worried they would, and they knew how to handle their weapons. Ayers firing the old Thompson professionally with short controlled bursts, while Hawkern calmly fired grenade rounds from her auto-shotgun that further devastated the B.A.T's hiding in the bushes.

And those not gotten in the exchange, Ayers dealt with—with his bare hands.

Nobody could claim that Cobra's Battle Android Troopers were invincible, seeing that they were nothing more than mechanized, humanoid cannon fodder that wouldn't baulk at making full frontal assaults upon heavily fortified positions or other dangerous duties for that matter. And since they never slept, complained about the food, or try backstabbing, they were used with abandon because they were so cheaply built—but not to cheaply that they could be torn apart by a strong man's bear hands.

Ayer however was something else. When two of them who tried jumping his wife, he shattered first's skull with a roundhouse and destroyed the second with a vicious kick that tore its torso apart.

It was a sight…quite a sight. Especially what he did to the three Night Creepers who thought they could surprise him. If they didn't realize that he was a cyborg by now, they most certainly did by then.

Once done, Duke reporting their movements all the way so they wouldn't come under fire.

"_Most of the upper floors were empty."_ Ms. Candy noted.

"Betting this place has a basement?" Duke clearly said, eyeing a particular door.

"_Well, it used to have a attic."_ Scarlett flatly replied.

"Ok people, let's do it!" Duke told them with him. The door was standard security door of re-enforced steel, balanced to swing outwardly. Of course there were hazards with such doors, but nothing that a shaped charge couldn't deal with—and he had a few of those on hand. But Ayers just walked up to the door then kicked it completely out of its frame sending it down the stairs.

"DONNIE!!" Hawkern literally threw a fit. But from the stairwell behind the door came assorted mechanical squeals and electrical short outs that came from B.A.T's in the process of being crushed by the security door landing on them

"Sunrise is in two hours," Ayers yelled back. "We don't have a whole lot of time!"

Try as they may, Cobra troopers could not figure out where, or from what, the attacks on the Command Complex were coming from. Missiles and auto cannon fire was coming from somewhere with swift and deadly affect upon personal, vehicles and various above ground storage areas.

But there was more than seen from above. Far below from where their brethren were being slain by TOM, special vehicle crews and more Cobra Troopers were racing to their vehicles held in special bunkers build near the Command Complex. Cobra Commander had designed them well, seeing the possibility of a direct assault upon the Complex he had them positioned with entrances a full mile away so granting Cobra with a very nasty element of surprise upon those who'd attack the Complex with the belief of getting them all in one strike.

Serpentor knew about them. Mindbender's secret lab was near one.

Edrailian spies on Cobra also knew them, enabling those who'd arrived first to mine them with charges armed with sonic triggers keyed to specific decibel level of the vehicle's engines as they passed over. The resulting explosions ripped through engine compartments and fuel cells leading to chain-reaction destruction and the blockage of those tunnels.

High over head, standing upon the platform of his new Air Chariot, while his guard flew in formation around him on their flying bikes, Serpentor witnessed the plumes of fire being born from the tunnels and rising high into the night sky—and became vivid with rage.

"THIS WILL BE AVENGED!! THE INVADER'S WILL BE DESTROIED!!!"

He proclaimed, as Wildman and Angel, on either side of him could only hope for the opportunity to escape.

The whole operation was completed in twenty minutes, finished only when both the Joes and Edrailians flushed the last of the ninja Night Creepers out of their bolthole with several small shaped charges.

When that was finished, for some, a more grisly task awaited.

The Factuality's basement was divided into a series of auditoriums, both large and small. In a modest sized one, the 'survivors' were located. They were tourists, children and young adults with some full adults along to keep watch on them and the craft's pilots, Hawkern explained, all residing in body bags that allowed their gruesome contents to be seen on twenty rolling tables. Hawkern glanced at her PDA, counting the bags silently while the Joes and Edrailian Special Forces members walked grimly amongst them.

Beachhead had seen death a lot in his time, from bullets, bombs, fire, and a few other things. But the bodies on the table went beyond what was usually found on a battlefield.

"What the…?" he puzzled, looking at several of the bodies. "They explode?"

"Explosive decompression." Hawkern flatly stated. "From the state of the bodies…that's what happened."

Beachhead had a good ideal of what she was speaking about. He just didn't realize how grotesque it would be.

"There are fail-safes, multi-layered." She slowly added in a detached manner. "A total failure of the safety systems by accident is unheard of, and by neglect is a criminal offense warranting execution of the individuals involved…. Especially if the victims are children, as it is…in this case…but that can only be determined by examining the craft and its…system recorders."

That last part came only after she had paused to compose herself. Then in a rush, "There are five missing, we haft to find them."

Beachhead stayed quiet. He'd seen plenty of dead in his time, but what was in-bagged around him had to rank amongst the worst. And Hawkern was quite close to coming unglued from it.

"Probably in a lab, somewhere..." Beachhead herd Leatherneck say from behind.

"Yea, right." agreed Beachhead, and after seeing the commandos start moving the bodies out, headed out with Hawkern and two others to looked for the rest.

In another, more larger room, Duke, Lift-Ticket, and Roadblock had a good look at the 'meteor' that caused everything to occur.

A really good look.

For all that it when through, the civilian version of the Edrailian military 'Jumper' transport still kept it's relative shape in spite the front end being smashed in, one wing and it's tail section bent flatly, it's body charred black and no canopy glass in place. But then the side access door was blasted open without doubt by Cobra. It lay on a table near-by.

"So this is what caused it all." Duke quietly remarked.

"Yup." Ayers nodded.

He really could say much more at the moment. To finally see the cause of so much havoc in the World just left him speechless.

"If the coolant system failed or the power core was cracked, we wouldn't be standing here." Ayers pointed out to them. "Hell, we wouldn't have made it down the stairs alive."

"So, what now?" Duke asked, there wasn't much of anything else that could surprise him at this point.

"Pull the flight recorder and system monitors." Ayers answered approaching the wreck. "The rest, we'll detonate. Should leave nothing behind."

A near-by portable platform gave Ayers what he needed to reach the topside of the craft where the recorders could be found. With help, this was moved this into position, then Stalker called over the radio.

"_Duke, Colton's on his way--and so is Serpentor."_

"What kind of force is Serpentor fielding?"

"_All that he can get his hands on. Mercer figures the smaller garrisons along the islands southeastern perimeter, and possibly a large vehicle depot in the area as well."_ Stalker reported. _"They're setting up mines on the roads and in the bushes with what little they have left before coming back here. But figure Serpentor showing up in thirty minutes with trouble."_

"We start pulling out in twenty." Duke shot back, just in time to see Ayers literally tearing off a panel from the wrecked spaceship.


	14. Chapter 14

Thirteen.

Serpentor did know of the Dom Delilegos, and its relation to things present. But his decision on the matter was just the same…

"_Sink it!"_ He bellowed, before leaving the Command Center for his Sky Chariot.

He felt no real need to explain why, and none desired to be killed on the spot for asking _why?_

Six Cobra Nightfighters, already in flight and on station, with a full load of ordinance, including armored piercing torpedoes, were diverted from their assigned flight path to deal with the Ship.

"It's just a chunky research vessel. Any sub can handle this." Exclaimed one Nightfighter pilot.

"But the Subbies are lazy." Quipped another pilot, "and things have been getting dull."

"So you call this exciting?" retorted the first pilot. "No flak, no missiles, no plantax? —"

"Serpentor ordered it done." The squadron's commander stepped in with deadpan fashion. "And we do _HIS_ bidding—got it?"

And there was no more discussion on the matter. Weapon systems were engaged, feeding the pods at their noses and wings with all the information they'd need to function properly at the pilots' command.

"Twenty seconds to target—ready positions now!"

On their commander's orders, the squadron performs the much-practiced drill of separating into three groups of two, forming an arrowhead formation that closed in on the Delilegos swiftly for the kill.

"Ten seconds to target—arm weapons!!"

They did, as they had done in practice many times. But the formalities had to be followed no matter how irritating they were.

"Five, four, three, two, one…_FIRE!!_"

The squadron unleashed both missiles and torpedoes at once against the Delilegos in a massive wave that made their crafts slightly destabilize after the release of all that weight at once in those following moments before the internal systems stepped in allowing control to be regained as the squad banked away from the target. There was still time and distance to afford them the opportunity to watch their handy work while the squadron commander counted off the seconds till impact…

Suddenly massive geysers of water erupted fifty yards from the Delilegos, merging with the blossoming fireballs overhead.

The ship wasn't even harmed. Which meant on thing to the Flight Commander.

"_They're armed!"_ Screamed the commander over the radio _"They're bloody well armed!!"_

And then his craft was blown apart, as were the others of the squadron in rapid order.

Impressive, Cutter thought, watching the wreckage fall.

The Delilegos was now operated by five dedicated crewmembers with three injured Joes on board. However, two of them were still in the infirmary, leaving Cutter the only one mobile enough to move around. The acting captain was a young office that showed great promise, despite being nervous.

"Any more waves?"

"None. Sky is clear." Answered a tech after a moment of checking their instruments.

The acting-Captain nodded slowly.

"Better keep watch." Cutter warned. "The longer we're out here, the more they'll send."

The acting-Captain glanced at Cutter for a moment before turning to the tech, "Keep defensive systems on and steady." He ordered, "Ready Staffers for launch, and notify the teams of what occurred here."

The first indication of trouble came just after one of the S-9 PAS's spotted what appeared to be an observation drone circling overhead. Then, seconds later, a small Cobra armored division struck demolishing several of the 'borrowed' Cobra vehicles outright along with two of S9's PAS's, sending robotic parts and assorted ordinance flying everywhere.

Their fellows went airborne at once, firing all they had into the surrounding jungle they struck back hitting numerous Cobra vehicles.

And then were attacked from another angle by more Cobra vehicles. And soon after that even more vehicles from the rear

Hovering above and well to the rear above the jungle canopy, Serpentor watched with growing satisfaction.

"Have the third and fifth groups begin their flank assault." Serpentor directed to a field commander over the chariot's communications screen, which gave direct contact to whoever he needed to speak to in the field—and they to him, bypassing the still bogged down main communications system. "The fourth group shall wait for any enemy driven into their direction, and attack. All aerial assault forces remain on stand-by."

The commander dutifully noted his orders and signed off.

It was going perfectly. The first groups were just sacrifices to stir up the enemy and make them waste valuable resources and soften their defensive line with quick hit-and-run attacks on all sides of their line. Already, three more of their flying knights were destroyed, and the defenders were being pushed back into the building under the protection of the larger knights.

Third and fifth groups would be preparing for their turn, while a smaller sixth group would be connecting up with the remains of the first two groups to make a joint thrust with the third and fifth that should force them from the building, right into the fourth group for annihilation.

Another flying knight blossomed into a ball of flame, crashing to the ground near the front entrance of the building.

Definitely, considered Serpentor, may not need the aerial forces.

Then Cobra Commander appeared on the Chariot's communications screen

"_To all assembled Cobra Forces on this Island and Abroad, I, Cobra Commander, formally retake control of all Cobra concerns from self-proclaimed buffoon Emperor, Serpentor."_

Serpentor became vivid.

"_I, have regained full control over the majority of the forces on this Island, and will do so utilize them to hunt down and capture Serpentor, before he drives Cobra into ruins!"_ continued Cobra Commander. And Angel, nearest to the com-screen, felt an odd tingling throughout her mind…

_Turn on Serpentor…_She felt compelled to simply turn, aim her weapon at Serpentor's head, and shoot him…

The Guardians were acting in similar fashion.

Wildman noticed, but was too far away to stop Angel.

"_The traitorous Dr. Mindbender has already felt my wraith, as will most certainly this—"_

Cobra Commander's broadcast was cut short by Serpentor smashing the screen with his heavily gloved fist.

Angel stopped. The Guardians wavered. With the compelling urge was gone, she was left with her weapon aimed at Serpentor's head. This he noticed quickly and promptly knocked it out of her hands with a powerful swing of his left arm, loosening her helmet while knocking her back against the safety railing where the helmet came off completely.

Seeing Angel no longer as a threat, Serpentor turned his attentions to Wildman who was surprised by the turn of events. "An interesting turn of events, no?" he smiled.

Wildman's' brain went into overdrive seeking a possible course of action.

"Clearly Cobra Commander believes me to be beaten." Serpentor chuckled, "He believes that he can defeat me without forces of any kind? An army of phantoms will not beat me…

"Nor will a army of women. Rather pathetic, isn't it?" He motioned at Angel, who was recovering from the blow. "A female Crimson Guardsman."

Laughter arose. Angel glared back.

Serpentor could care less, he was simply enjoying himself.

"What were you thinking of doing with that weapon?" he turned, leering at her. "Helping the Commander?"

The Guardians chuckled. Wildman straightened himself out. He still had his weapons, and with Serpentor's and the Guardian's attention focused of Angel he could attempt to hold Cobra's Emperor hostage…

But the Chariot's pilot was well aware of what was going on. There was always something that held up direct action. Wildman forced the frustration aside so he could clearly think—then act.

"The Commander relies of pretty women to fight for him." Serpentor continued, "No wonder why he's weak"

Angel rose slowly to her feet, glaring defiantly at Serpentor.

"Ah, spirited." Serpentor grinned. "Perhaps I underestimated The Commander's tastes in women."

They were ten feet above the jungle canopy of not too mature trees…but they were dense enough to break a fall, _if_ the fall was done right.

Serpentor moved slowly towards Angel, who snarled at him.

"Perhaps I should break you instead, make you my concubine…"

"_ANGEL!!"_

Wildman caught Serpentor by surprise with a harsh punch to the crotch from behind that made the Emperor double over in pain, allowing Wildman to vault across his back with a excellent forward flip to Angel, whom he grabbed and carried with him over the guardrail into the jungle below--vanishing through the canopy feet first. Branches flailed at them as they whipped past, before Wildman successfully fixed a grapple line to a passing branch, slowing their fall.

While from above, Serpentor's voice did hysterically rage a few octaves higher than normal: _"GET THEM!! GET THEM NOW OR I"LL HAVE YOUR HEADS MOUNTED ON PIKES FOR ALL TO SEE!!!"_

"I an certain that after this blight is removed from out midst, Cobra can once again become great—and even greater than before…

"_Hail Cobra!!"_

Mindbenders' hide-a-way laboratory was a small, well-equipped block buried near an underground access way that was missed by mere feet during the initial construction. Weither accidentally or deliberately was a moot point for Cobra Commander, since current matters were currently occupying his attention. But later, he'd look up the designers to ask them about the hideaway.

His assessment of Hydra though had risen. Mindbender was where Hydra had left him, lying on the floor with the top of his head smashed in by the metal chair lying near-by, and significant amounts of gore covered some of the control panels.

Messy, but effective.

Cobra Commander shut the camera off, then swiveled his chair around to address Hydra.

"Well?"

"We should be seeing the results shortly." Hydra replied with detached confidence. Being under the influence of the Scanner, Hydra was extremely helpful in creating the subliminal that was broadcasted out as well with Cobra Commander's speech and bypassing the interference that allowed it to be carried out over the entire Cobra Communications network

"I hope so." Cobra Commander fingered the Scanner while gazing at Hydra.

Cobra Commander's broadcast, highlighted subliminally by Hydra, reached all over the Cobra Empire playing on every functional video screen and radio transmitter—watched and listened to by millions—who's attitudes toward Serpentor changed dramatically.

And for the second time that night, a second, but smaller, bloody purge occurred within Cobra. By the end of an hour, Cobra Commander was being paged with the report of the Command Complex being utterly swept clean of all Serpentor loyalists as all adjoining installations reported in with varying degrees of success.

All that Serpentor had with him were those engaged in battle at a disused research facility to the south. And those allied with Cobra Commander were in route to deal with the self-styled Emperor once and for all, after calling in that equipment needed from outside sources.

Cobra Commander marveled at Hydra's modification of the Brainwave Scrambler, never before could such rapid manipulation be successful by broadcasted transmition in such a degree…

Then he realized where Serpentor was, and suddenly rushed back to the Command Center with Hydra following at his heels.

It should have been simple, even for the Guardians to figure; fifty feet off of the ground ten feet of which was open air and the rest jungle. They should be directly below the spot where they entered the canopy, lying on the ground or a little ways away.

Only, they weren't.

Not even a sign of them at all. Broken bones didn't allow any sort of quick movement, and neither of them struck the Guardian's as being ninjas. But the fact was, they weren't anywhere to be found.

Making the Guardians worry.

"Damnit! Serpentor will have our heads for this!" one Guardian swore.

"Then quite crying and find them!!" Yelled a second.

So the Guardians split up, poking and pushing their way through the foliage that limited their lights and vision to only a few feet around them, while Serpentor raged from above.

So much for the 'easy duty', loyalty not withstanding.

"G5, this is Lead…Find anything?"

The worry was evident, and drove them deeper and deeper into the jungle growth.

Serpentor wouldn't hesitate in executing them if they didn't bring them back to him. _But where were they?_ That was the maddening part.

More than once they returned to the exact spot where they all seen them dive in, and once they were orientated they'd start back searching the area for anything they missed. The longer it went, the greater their worries grew—for the louder Serpentor became, and the more graphic the punishments became.

One Guardian, after what he figured to be fruitless searching of the ground, fought his way upward through the braches to look there. If anything, at least he could claim that he was 'thorough' in his search. There was also the fact that he wondered weather or not they even reached the ground. It was quite possible, he reasoned, to find them dangling from the upper branches. Not only would it save his life, but give him a solid advantage for better rank and pay.

The upper braches where he started were no better than those below. Giant leaves weren't any better but they could be moved aside easier by hand than just simply plowing through them on the bike. In one area alone this was especially true since the overhead canopy was so dense, the only light he could see with was from the bike's headlight and the flashlight he carried as apart of his personal equipment.

"G9, this is Lead. Anything up there?" The Guardian leader was exasperated, fearing the search was taking too long.

"I'm still looking." He responded into his radio, while carefully balancing himself to search through another mass of draped branches and their leaves.

A glint of red made him pause.

He pushed closer, flashlight in hand.

It was a Crimson Guardsman's jacket. Definitely the one worn by the girl…

And from the shadows, Wildman quickly reached out and broke the Guardian's neck with a violent twist from behind before he could radio the discovery. Quickly, he pulled the Guardian from the bike while removing the dead man's equipment harness before sending the body crashing downward to the jungle floor with the hope that it would serve as a distraction just long enough to escape. Then, he leaped to the bike heading upward to fetch Angel, hiding on the branch above him, now wearing only her underwear and the Guardsman's boots along with her small automatic in its hideaway holster.

"Glad to be rid of those clothes." Angel remarked, "Felt like I was roasting."

She slid onto the bike in front of Wildman, who appeared to too much of a hurry to comment on her lack of attire.

The Bike was built for single occupancy, with its seat wedged between a hump like tank and blocky rear end. A very undignified position to be in, in a very public way. But she quickly realized that in dangerous situations dignity was largely forgotten in the face of danger.

"Please be gentle." She grinned to Wildman.

"My thoughts will be on other things." He assured her, helping her into the Guardian's equipment harness.

She leaned forward, slipping her booted feet behind the foot-shields. Wildman revved the Sky-Bike, a low pitched hum and subtle vibrations gave physical note to the vehicle's engine working in accordance to what the control panel indicators directly before Angel's face noted.

Then Angel felt Wildman upon her.

"Hang on!" he rasped, and suddenly they were shooting skyward through the jungle canopy, past a surprised Serpentor.

If they, fighting off the advancing Cobra forces at the Facility, knew what was occurring elsewhere with-in the Cobra organization they would have been very happy.

However, there were more pressing concerns to deal with.

The Edrailians on the other hand were proving more than capable.

"I like these guys!!" Roadblock yelled to Stalker while loading a fresh belt into his heavy machine gun. "They're not givin' up anything!!"

Stalker just nodded grimly in agreement. The Edrailians were going to take as many Cobras's down before they give up, that was evident from the way they stood up to assault after assault.

_But, for how much longer,_ Stalker wondered. Cobra forces were hitting them from three sides in well-orchestrated 'Hit-and-Run' assaults that gave them no real chance to solidify their stand, while slowly hacking away at their numbers. There were only seven of the Ayer's brought PAS's still standing and slugging back, but looking ready to fall apart from the excessive abuse of battle. All of S9's were wiped out with several of their pilots in dire need of medical attention, and munitions were beginning to run low. Shots were short bursts into the darkness where the Cobra's were concealed by, and grenades were used sparingly if and when a vehicle could be herd—or it's mounted gun when firing.

Stalker himself had only two 30-round clips for his rifle left, and Roadblock was down to his last belted rounds.

_We could use a miracle about now_, he quietly murmured…

Then a shout over the radio, _"Heads up folks!!!"_

And then the ground violently shook with a thunderous roar as the jungle came alive with explosive fire, shooting upward into the sky in massive waves carrying metal and vegetation with it.

A stunned Stalker just sat and watched it all.

Eventually, the cheers of the Edrailians and fellow Joes finally got through his shock induced haze. And in looking up, he found out why.

The Staffers had finally arrived, unloading their ordinance into the surrounding jungle producing a firestorm effect upon the attacking Cobra forces. Which, in the face of the lethal downpour broke ranks and fled from the area.

Soon, they were joined by other larger craft. Including the Ospery-Jet, which settled down for a landing at the facility's courtyard.

Stalker focused on it, slowly grinning.

A miracle had occurred.

Seeing Colton in a Viper uniform coming down the rear ramp didn't faze anyone, the Joes still saluted him when he arrived.

"As long as good fortune holds, we'll be leaving in ten minutes." Colton told them all. "Where's Wildman?"

Nobody there had any ideal, until a loud roaring sound made all of them look up

And there was Wildman and Angel flying overhead with two Guardian's in close pursuit.

"Five bodies were taken to the Command Complex." Hawkern hurriedly explained to Duke. "Apparently for further examination."

"What do we do Duke? Hit the place?" Beachhead wondered.

If things were going to plan, TOM was already doing that. But only to bottle the place up, not tear his way inside to search.

If Cobra was able to capture him roughly intact, Duke hated to face what they'd make from studying the remains.

Seconds before, word reached him about Colton's arrival and orders. They had the flight recorders, and Ayers was now rigging the still useable power plant to turn the ship into a small fusion bomb in twenty minutes.

"Nice, neat, and quick." Ayers explained. "Everything goes poof in a flash."

That settled things nicely as far as Duke was concerned, then the wife laid the bad news at his door.

His decision was quick. "I'm sorry." Duke told her. "We're leaving in ten minutes, there's no way we can do it."

"But the agreement will be void without _all_ brought back." Hawkern was now frantic, and with good reason—without every person returned, Devronique could do, as he wanted.

For the moment, Duke really considered informing Colton of the dilemma. With the World in balance, the only course of action they had was to attack the Cobra Headquarters to retrieve the remains.

But there never was only one way to do things. This Duke and all the Joes had pounded into them in training them to think quickly under intense pressure. It's what made them suitable for the Joe Team in the first place.

"What if the remains were destroyed?" Duke asked. "Leaving them in such a state that Cobra couldn't use them?"

"It'll do." Ayers yelled, then leaped off of the Jumper's top to a loud landing that he quickly walked away from. "And when this goes in thirty, it'll do it."

"They'd want the bodies, Donnie!" Hawkern exclaimed. "All of them!"

"You have proof that all of them were here?" Ayers countered.

Leatherneck raised a sheaf of papers bearing the Cobra logo in his hand. "It's all right here." He smiled.

"And there's the confirmation." Ayers pointed that out quickly, and then gently added to his wife, "That's all that's needed. We can explain the rest."

Hawkern was ready to yell, but stopped when the realization set in, much to Duke's relief for he feared a real blow-up occurring between them.

"And knowing Cobra Commander as we do," Duke put in, because he felt the need to explain the probability, "Considering their importance, they may not even be on this Island at all. He'd have them moved to somewhere only he knows. I'm sorry, but that's it."

Slowly Hawkern accepted the fact in silence.

And Duke rounded in on Ayers, "You said twenty minutes."

"I figured ten minutes to haul ourselves up to the surface, without killing ourselves running up the stairs. Of which, " Ayers replied before glancing at his ornate watch, "we wasted two minutes arguing."

"We still have a few shaped charges left." Beachhead put in. "We could use them on the stairs."

"Or blast the building as we leave." Lift-Ticket added.

"How about both to be sure." Hawkern quickly added.

"That's my kind of thinking, Ms Ayers." He nodded to her, then yelled to everyone "Lets move it people!!"

Devronique watched the clock reach the one-hour mark, then sweep past the half-hour mark.

Now, everything will be measured in minutes. But with Hawkern's forces on Cobra Island taking on the might of it's forces, the possibility arose of a delay for him to proceed from the Council until the battle was decided.

And by Rule of Etiquette, he would haft to wait until then.

But there was still time, he consoled himself, anything could happen…

Anything.

It was unnerving, but Angel quickly adapted herself to flying on what amounted to a flying bike. And once that occurred, it was quite fun. Though being sandwiched between the bike and Wildman was rather uncomfortable, the purpose became quite plain when the Guardians started firing at them. Wildman's clothes were ballistic armored, and she as she was would have been ripped to pieces, so hang the indignity.

However, to elude them, Wildman was twisting and flipping the bike around in ways that would make snowboarders envious—and Angel, an experienced pilot herself, quite ill. The Guardians were having a difficult time matching him move for move, until one flip and roll maneuver proved to be too much for one of them to match and he pitched end over end to his demise on the jungle floor. Two more collided when trying to match on a tight turn, others were dismounted by tree branches and other jungle foliage--or dispatched by Angel with the dead Guardian's machine pistol.

Now, there was only the one who was hanging back. Too far away to be effected any maneuver Wildman could perform, or for Angel to hit and too choosey with his munitions, but very intent on staying with them during every move and attempt at evasion.

It was becoming frustrating just dealing with him.

"You know what?" Angel yelled to Wildman.

"What!" he responded.

"Perhaps you should go up and joust with him." Angel suggested. "Bet it would give him a good scare."

"And get you hurt in the process?" he answered back.

"It's better than just going around in damn circles!!" she yelled.

For that moment it occurred to Angel that all Wildman was doing was keeping her safe at their expense. Noble, but this wasn't the time for such gesturing—even if it was for her safety. She could handle herself very well without anyone's help, asked for or not.

"I took a risk and wound up here because you asked me to trust you!" Angel yelled back over her shoulder at Wildman. "In that, I accept what has happened to me so far, as well as what will happen to me be it good or bad."

Angel couldn't see Wildman's face; he was too far behind and above her to turn her head for the proper angle for she so wanted to tell him directly. She couldn't see it becoming hard and dark, his eyes darting from straight ahead, to the rear-views and all-around. Or how his grip was tightening on the control bars.

"So, damnit do something!!"

And suddenly he did. The bike shot upward so fast that Angel feared for her grip in spite Wildman's body pressing her against the bike as they climbed higher and faster into the night sky. And much to her credit, Angel didn't scream or recant what she just said. She caused this to happen, so be it.

What was worrisome was wondering what he was going to do. Fly right into space?

Not quite, but a few seconds more Wildman throttled back and sent the craft into a gentle sideways spin with gentle nudges of steering that had them turn exactly around till they were facing straight down. But still heading upwardly, backwards. The Guardian, farther away, but climbing towards them at Serpentor's urging…

Wildman kicked in the engine. Now they were racing right at the Guardian at high speed.

The Guardian had his body hugging his bike, with eyes barely over the top of his instrument panel as he rocketed up to meet the challenge. But as the distance closed between them, Angel swore that the man was starting to baulk at this game of chicken.

Wildman apparently wasn't. Now she regretted everything she yelled at him just moments before.

Then suddenly he and the craft raised to a perfectly horizontal level with him while firing the underside thrusters at full power to break their descent right at the hapless Guardian who couldn't dodge in time and was swept off his bike by the wash. And continued downward, plunging through the jungles canopy stopping just mere feet above the ground.

When Angel's vision cleared, all there was around them was dense jungle

"Well?" Wildman asked, "Was that to your liking?"

If Angel opened her mouth at that moment she would have been sick all over the bike.

Some distance away, there was a crashing sound followed by an explosion. The light of the flames could just be seen flickering through the trees.

Angel, keeping her mind off of being sick, began breathing deeply Then Wildman leaned forward, holding a small spray bottle close to her mouth.

"Just breathe it in." he gently told her, and sprayed a little bit into her mouth.

Angel didn't have much say or time to fight it. But moments after the mist went in, she started feeling better.

"Don't try rising just yet." Wildman told her. "Give it a minute or two."

Something was moving overhead. A spotlight searched the area around where they were. Wildman moved the bike to denser foliage with as little sound as he could, just missing the beam as it swept past. By then, Angel felt able enough to raise herself up without being ill.

And the both of them were looking upward for the searching vehicle.

"He could draw us out." Angel whispered.

"He could." Wildman agreed.

Wildman moved the bike up along the trunk of a nearest tree, then forward through an opening amid the tangled branches. As they worked their way through the upper braches, scores of missiles suddenly rained down from above, blasting away the entire local canopy in a horrific firestorm. Dodge and weave as they may, the missiles followed closely on their heels.

Several blasts ahead of them finally forced them upwards out of the Canopy.

Right in front of Serpentor.

"YOU!!"

The voice was Serpentor's, from twenty yards away directly in front of them, staring at them with maniacal glee as portions of the Air Chariot's front started opening. Missiles, several batteries of them, all aimed at Wildman and Angel.

Too close to miss, too late to run.

"DIE!!"

Cannon fire slammed into the Air Chariot sending it tumbling from the sky in that instant. It could have been a dream, a fantasy—a last bit of mental denial before certain death. But Serpentor's cursing was all too real, as was TOM, scuffed up and dented in a few places, and parts of his long scarf smoldered. But he seemed not dismayed by it as he casually rested his auto-rifle across his right shoulder while sliding to a stop next to them.

"Clearly unsportsman-like." The robot commented in a snorting tone. "And he called himself a warrior!"

"I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to speak with you sooner, Tom." Wildman spoke, grinning in relief.

"Well, now you have the opportunity." TOM replied upon noticing Angel, who simply gaped at him. The robot looked them both over several times as the whine of the Osprey-Jet's engines came closer.

"You can start with this?" TOM asked, motioning to both the air bike and Angel.


	15. Chapter 15

Fourteen.

When he was finally able to return, the first thing Cobra Commander had to deal with was the United Nations. Somehow, they had become aware of the current situation and were demanding answers from _all_ parties involved.

Cobra Commander spent the next hour doing his best to placate the officials while regaining control of his forces. Serpentor's return made an excellent excuse, and he explained that the Emperor's forces were being contained and controlled at this very moment.

A Tele-Viper stepped up with the report of the Joes leaving the area, should they attack them?

He deliberated on the matter for a moment before silently shaking his head.

_No, let them go." _He reasoned_, "Too much to deal with already."_

But the U.N. wasn't about to allow Cobra Commander's explanations to stand, at least without a thorough examination of the Island and testimony from all parties involved in the affair. Cobra Commander did his best to explain that that wasn't at all necessary; he'll be dealing with Serpentor himself once the renegade was caught. But that still didn't settle the official, who then made the claim that Serpentor's composite parts warranted U.N. intervention due to their _historic significance_.

Round and round they went, then Cobra Commander had had enough and signaled Hydra to use the subliminal system on the U.N. official. After that everything was just fine with no problems.

Then he activated all of the remote cameras at the abandoned Facility.

Hydra stayed silent, in disguise, loyally standing by the Commander side no one could guess what was going on in his mind while watching the monitors. If anyone bothered to look at him long enough, they would easily notice that he had the air of fatality about him--like an animal that knew it was going to die soon.

Of the four still working monitors at the Facility, one showed the Jumper untouched in storage with billowing clouds of dust surrounding it. Another showed an empty room with twenty tables and the remaining two showed the Joes leaving the area in craft similar to the wreck under the cover of smaller aircraft and the surrounding jungle in flames.

"You know, Doctor, this alters the balance of things." He thoughtfully said while studying the monitor showing the wrecked ship. "It's also going to be a problem for us in the future…unless some sort of agreement is reached."

"Yes, Cobra Commander." Hydra detachedly replied.

"I expect such," Cobra Commander casually replied, "since your existence now depends upon me …"

And left it at that.

Though Hydra easily figured that he was dead either way, in any case, there was so very little for him to do beyond standing there dwelling on what could have been.

Cobra Commander however was busy with a problem that had him utterly puzzled while working the command board. He repeatedly checked and re-checked various other control boards and their monitors for several minutes before standing slowly upright, but still gazing down upon that one monitor.

"They couldn't get it out…"He quietly muttered, "They took what they could, but they couldn't take—"

Then Serpentor, badly bruised and cut but ever full of bluster cut into the transition.

"_HA!! So you believe you've defeated me, Cobra Commander. But it shall be I defeating you this night, worm!!"_

Cobra Commander didn't freeze in shock over the interruption, because the problem he'd been pondering finally yielded up a solution.

"_In the remains of this building are the very means I'll use to expand Cobra's grasp into the Universe! And after what the Edrailians did to your defenses, I dare you to—"_

Cobra Commander shut the monitor off.

_It was the only thing they could do_, he realized.

"They rigged the craft to explode." Cobra Commander realized aloud.

Several in the Command Center looked at him in stunned silence, except Hydra who just closed his eyes.

"All loyal Cobra Forces begin a level three evacuation of the Command Complex and Island." Cobra Commander ordered. "Take what aircraft remains, and do not engage those loyal to Serpentor!"

They all stood for a moment, then the order went out across the Complex accompanied by wailing sirens and revolving lights. Cobra Commander wasn't about to risk what he regained…

But, he hoped the blast was powerful enough to rid him of Serpentor…for now.

Serpentor wasn't irate at all when Cobra Commander shut his monitor off. On the contrary, he took it as a sign that the fool was acknowledging his defeat and probably now was ending his own life in the privacy of some darken room. Or, perhaps, he was running away as all cowardly dogs do, Serpentor didn't care or waste the time worrying about it at the moment, but upon his triumphant return to the Command Complex he would seek the Commander out.

His head would make a perfect footstool. Or perhaps he'd mount it on a special staff reserved for special formal occasions.

Never the less, such dreams he pushed aside for now to yell at those working on clearing away the rubble from the entrance.

"HURRY UP!! ROMAN SLAVES COULD WORK FASTER THAT YOU LOT!!"

In spite being quite ragged, bruised, and torn from the downing of his Air Chariot, Serpentor was an undeniable force to be reckoned with. The soldiers-turned-workmen stepped up their efforts to clear the debris from the building's entrances, ever fearing Serpentor's wraith. Those who didn't move quickly enough he killed on the spot, and their bodies lay where they fell as motivation for the rest towards working faster. It worked, as Serpentor knew it would.

But every now and then there was one he had to deal with.

No great loss, Serpentor concluded, considering what the result would be.

The Stars, how he used them many times in his many lives to navigate by or to ponder upon as he slept under them. Never once did he ever consider during those lifetimes that there were others like him on other worlds, possibly wondering the same things while laying on alien fields gazing up into alien skies.

Now, they were within his grasp, to travel to and dominate the worlds that revolved around them and those that lived on them. And with the high ground under his control, there was no way the Earth could resist him a ruler.

Yes, the legions he'd control, hundreds—no_, billions_ of times larger than all of the legions controlled by those he was. He would be as if a God, worshiped and feared by all.

Yes, it was a grand dream. A dream that was within his grasp…

That ended quite suddenly in a flash.

The word came in the final minutes, _Wildman had succeeded._

There were no crash survivors. Upon the confirmation of the evidence confirmed quickly, and the Council directly ordered Devronique to stop and leave the area of Earth.

There would be no Invasion.

Devronique dismissed his Admirals and Generals from his presence with the orders. When they left, he quickly went into a violent rage of cursing and destruction that lasted for hours.

Some settled on Fate, for stealing the long awaited chance away.

More went to Merrimeck, for failing him at this most critical of times. He would be getting his due, no doubt.

But the most went to Wildman, for showing up at the worst possible time.

And when the fit wound itself down leaving him tired and worn, Devronique flopped down into the only chair remaining usable and brooded: _There will be another day, Hawkern…_

It had been a horrible night. Thought not as long as some he managed to live through, but there was plenty that Gung-ho had to face.

_Reckless driving, destruction of property—both Federal, State and private, dereliction of duty, unwarranted actions, endangering innocent lives…_

Abandoning teammates…

That last one really stuck.

If he were lucky, it would only be a dishonorable discharge. At least he could crawl back to the swamps and hide in a nice quiet, extremely hard to get to corner where he could live with his shame all alone.

Plodding, one foot after another down the ramp down the Tower Continental's parking garage, he didn't quite know or care weather it was the entrance or exit to the place. It did look like the one Wildman went shooting out of with all of those Dreadnoks clinging to his car.

That had only been the beginning. And after escaping certain death from the sinking Police Car out in the harbor, the hapless Joe found himself in a myriad of adventures that left him in such a state he was very lucky not to have been arrested on vagrancy.

_Momma always warned that New Orleans was a place to always avoid_, and boy did he learn that the hard way.

Then the sound of bare feet padding towards him on concrete from behind made him turn in time to see a giant figure rushing up from behind, and instinct, despite being as tired as he was, took over with a sharp uppercut to the advancer's jaw that laid the muscular man out cold on the ramp.

Not even a sweat, Gung-ho frowned at he looked down on his handiwork. The man was naked, completely naked.

_Momma was right; New Orleans is a strange town._

He started away, but paused and turned back around for a second look at the naked man because something struck him as absolutely funny about him.

It was Thrasher, the Dreadnok driver, all stretched out on the ramp.

And suddenly things started looking a little brighter to Gung-ho, but not by too much.


	16. Chapter 16

Fifteen.

July slipped into August with a massive tropical depression laying siege to the whole northern half of the east coast, choking the sky with gray and black clouds just socked full of moisture.

It wasn't a matter of how bad it was going to be, the weathermen explained, it was just a matter of when it was all going to let loose.

Donnie Ayers had kept his fingers crossed mentally all day. First in the hope of not having to drive in a monstrous down pour, and secondly to not loose his temper while dealing with the various Generals, Intelligence experts and Politicians Colton had assembled in Washington DC. He was no speechmaker when it came to the ramifications of the Edrailian existence, cybernetic applications to aeronautical engineering was more his field. Wildman was better at explaining such things, but if he ever set foot in public before the legalities were dealt with the last anyone would be seeing of him would be as agents bundled him off to who knew where.

Unfortunately, his temper did flare when someone snickered. At least the table he smashed could be replaced. But the 'accident' did made a positive impact upon those at the meeting since the table was mahogany, a very dense wood.

Now they took the matter more seriously.

When they made the highway exit, Ayer's breathed a sigh of relief that caught Colton's attention.

"Just glad to be off the Crazyway." Ayer's explained, loosening his tie.

Colton didn't say anything, and returned to watching the door mirror as the Virginian countryside races by.

"I understand State Troopers like to hide amongst the trees here for speeders." He calmly mentioned.

"They're no problem." Ayers remarked

"Please, Professor." Colton annoyedly replied. "We don't need to make the day longer than it needs to be."

Frowning, Ayers eased back on the accelerator.

In the rear seat was Angelica Drummond, sleeping without any indication of what was occurring in her RAF uniform. Curled up on the narrow rear seat with her high-heeled shoes on the floor, she just fit in the entire length on the bench seat. Colton figured it best to include her as well, though the strings he had to pull to peel her away from both the CIA and MI6 without the FBI's interference burned up a lot of favors he had hoped to use at a later time. This was the only real decent chance she had at being able to sleep since, Colton considered.

He turned back at the mirror.

And there was something he expected.

"We're being followed." He quietly announced.

"Black, late model sedan with those funky plates." Ayers noted. "Been on us since the Pentagon."

Colton nodded and studied the vehicle. A Government special, it was well behind them so not to be alarming but keeping pace. _Standard procedure_, Colton thought. _Now, who sent them?_

Ayers turned his sedan off of the public road and onto a private gravel road as Colton quietly counted off the seconds before the black sedan reached the turn off at. By eight, it appeared to turn onto the private road as well. Then stopped and slowly drove back the way that it came.

"Like we didn't see that?" commented Ayers. "Figure there was a leak at the meeting?"

"Couldn't say off hand." Colton replied with the occasional glance in the mirror, until a small hill they drove over blocked the view of the road. "But we could have tipped them to it by getting Drummond."

Ahead, was a Victorian style rough-iron gate with the words predominantly arranged above the arching top, _THE EXPLORATORY SOCIETY est. 1890,_ that offered a break in a dense hedge wall. Though it wouldn't have been too surprising to Colton to see if there was a wall in the center of all of that plant life. Ayers slowed as he approached, and the gate opened automatically allowing them to continue on a fine cobblestone road with trees on either side of it groomed so their upper most branches formed a natural tunnel of foliage.

"Think she'll keep Kim around?" Ayers quietly asked.

Social Behavior wasn't Colton's best field of knowledge, nor was he about to get into it. But, his common sense was quite acute.

"He did ask about her." He quietly replied as they approached the end of the natural tunnel. "So, we'll see."

They emerged from the tunnel to a majestic array of Victorian style buildings built of polished granite and red brick with wrought iron declaratives that held itself as stately as any notable university in the world, spread out like a giant fortress across well tended lawns and gardens the surrounded it on three sides. The Exploratory Society's home was a private university, the kind where students lived during the school year in one of four houses located at each of its four major corners. But it was much more than a place of learning, it was also one of several facades the Edrailians hid themselves from humans' existence—enabling them to move about with a reasonable amount of freedom, as well as to send their children and the children of the humans who lived with them in their colonies, to learn the higher forms of education.

They arrived through the back way, driving past the barrier of trees that hid the playing fields, various small multi-purpose buildings, and artificial lakes from view of the road. The road itself stretched around behind the main library, the museum, portions of the science hall and the Gymnasium, to an attached garage jutting out from the Office wing, which was open and waiting to receive them.

Ayers slowed down before entering the garage. Stalker came in to view, waving, on the right side of the entrance, Hawkern, in her typical body hugging attire, appeared on the left.

Then with a sharp crack the sky lit up with lightning, and Angel awoke with a startled scream. For several moments, she just sat there startled beyond belief. Then it gave way to cringing embarrassment.

"Sorry..." she meekly uttered.

Moments later, a heavy rain began falling.

"No worry." Colton smiled back. "We've arrived."

By then, they were in the garage and the door was closing to the furious storm behind them.

"Just made it back." Stalker smiled to Colton as he emerged from Ayers' customized sedan. Then in a more serious tone, added, "How did it go?"

Colton considered things for a moment, then quietly asked Stalker, "How quickly can the Joes here be assembled?"

"I can send a call." Stalker replied, readying his portable radio. "Where do you want them?"

There were nine Joes at the College; a small meeting room could do the trick to tell them all. He turned to Ayers to ask about such a room, and paused.

Angel was having trouble getting out of the rear seat, apparently due to putting her shoes on. But there was also the shock that she was getting over, to which she smiled nervously at Hawkern

"Thank you, it's quite embarrassing this…" Angel embarrassedly stated.

"I have five kids and a grandchild, and have dealt with such occurrences whenever loud noises were encountered." Hawkern smiled back to her while Ayers simply nodded.

Off to the side, was Wildman's Roadster up on a support lift. Several of its body panels removed as if waiting to be repaired, revealing a engine that was close to a actual internal combustion engine, but obliviously different. Angel stared at it remembering that night, and wondered how they managed to get it back from Cobra.

"Now we'll just get you cleaned up first…" Hawkern told her while gently taking her arm.

Startled, Angle blinked back, "But I'm fine, really."

"You have red eyes and smeared make-up." Hawkern smiled knowingly back. " I think a little tidying up first will help."

As his wife led Angel away, Ayers glanced at Colton.

"The loud thunder?" he supposed.

"I've seen it happen due to a lot of things." Colton simply replied. "No need embarrassing her any further."

"The backseat's Corinthian leather." Ayers shrugged. "Easy to clean up."

"That's nice." Colton nodded. "Now, can you spare a meeting room?"

They found a place, a facility lounge on the second floor of the Office Wing to use. The room was impressive with its comfortable Victorian high-backed leather chairs and oak tables, but a little stuffy which was remedied by opening some of the windows.

The weather was still harsh outside, but by the time the Joes filed in the room had fresher feel to it.

When they were all in, Colton nodded to Stalker who locked the door.

Colton then began. "You've been called to be briefed on the Washington visit, which concerns 'recent events'."

Eyes went to Ayers, leaning against a small but heavy table near and behind Colton, then back to the General.

"First off, " Colton began, "We're still a team. The Pentagon isn't exactly pleased by our not turning Wildman over to them, but the President was even less happy to discover the amount of illegalities they committed with their secret operation to get him in the first place, or with the treatment of Lieutenant Drummond for that matter after the operation. But, the British are handling that, so we don't worry about it."

That caused a great deal of pent up anxiety to be released in one big surge of relief. Once again, the upper brass and bureaucrats failed in their efforts to dissolve the team. Colton allowed them their moment of glee, knowing full well the kind of worry they were all under.

It was a pity that he had to break the _other_ news to them right after that.

"The meeting went 'fairly well'." He began. " There was no panicking, thankfully, though a table is going to need replacing…" This time he glanced at Ayers who simply nodded quietly. "But it's certain, they'll keep the secret and run cover for us when needed. Also, they'll push through the legalities allowing Wildman to walk freely. But that will take time."

Duke motioned and Colton nodded to him. "Sir, how long will we be on station concerning this matter?"

Colton quickly glanced over the group as all of them looked to him for the answer. There was no doubt that they'd been discussing the current situation amongst themselves, since it quite clearly did not fall with in the parameters they were trained for.

But, he did have an answer for them.

And braced himself when he gave it.

"Two years, Duke. After that, there will be no need to keep the secret any more."

There was an air of puzzled astonishment at first. _"Two Years."_ it was uttered in silence amongst them. But the longer it wore on, the sooner they all came to the realization of what their commander had just told them.

And they all turned to him.

"Are you saying they're going to come out of hiding?" Beachhead exclaimed.

"There's really no choice for us in the matter." Ayers quickly stepped in. "Advancements in Imagery Detail Charting, by both civilian and intelligence concerns is on the verge of defeating the Persuader Field Generators that currently protect all Edrailian establishments on Earth from _accidental _discovery. With in two years, these higher end-scanning systems are due to be installed on satellites. And since they work on a very tight wave for higher detail area resolution, they can easily slip past the Persuader Field—and discover _us_.

"So, for the past two and a half years, we've been consolidating our resources and technologies, developing a social interaction plan in preparation for _'The Day'. _Which also includes anything up to and past armed conflict and attempted take-over by individual nations, corporations, and even the United Nations."

"That's rather paranoid reasoning." Stalker remarked.

"Edrailians have been on this planet for some Fifteen-hundred years." Ayers directly replied. "They've seen and recorded everything on this planet, and are making sure it doesn't happen to them."

"Surely you're joking." Shipwreck added.

"I wish he was." Colton solemnly added. "Because I see the point of their argument quite easily."

When the Joes attention was back on him, he explained. "This is more than just backroom power playing. That night, we became exposed to a whole new set of possibilities that definitely will become serious deciding factors in the coming future. This _will_ seriously impact global Politics, Religion, Social and Business matters, and a great many other things vital to humanities existence that I cannot think of at the moment.

"There will be those who'll welcome this with a open mind, and, there will be those who'll exploit this situation for their own benefit. I'm not just speaking about what Cobra would do when I say that. As any of you know perfectly well there are governments, politicians, corporation heads, and various other 'movers and shakers' in this world who'd see them as a perfectly exploitable opportunity for both themselves and their organizations. And needless to say, they'll do _anything_ to achieve their goals.

"It's pretty much a given that Cobra or some other Dictator will make a effort to obtain Edrailian technology. The high probability of this occurring is significant, especially through something as innocent as a United Nations treaty or other such agreements. Or, by some outside means…

If the Joes seated there weren't attentive before, they were now—this was too serious to be treated otherwise.

"We don't care much for Liberals, or their ideals on how things should be." Ayers stated flatly. "We'd prefer to help those who'd _want_ to help themselves with the chance to do so, and are willing to work with them towards that goal. We don't care for those looking for a free ride, or for us to solve their problems for them as a means to a end."

"You're going to be alienating a lot of powerful people." Duke pointed out to Ayers, who simply shrugged uncaringly at it.

When he had their attention again, Colton continued. "Starting at once, or near enough so, all Joe reservists up to all active duty team members, and those on the inactive list, will be given a crash course in Edrailian culture and technology through Ayers Aerospace. It'll give us a head start when the time arrives, because there are other matters. There maybe more than just Devronique to worry about as an enemy in this, especially since that sky-bike Wildman obtained from Cobra _was_ Edrailian. And some how Serpentor was able to obtain them."

Some remembered the scene in the Osprey-jet of Wildman arriving with a nearly naked woman on such vehicle just before the massive explosion that reshaped Cobra Island. And after arriving on the Delilegos, when Ayers had a really good look at it.

"Cobra's capable of highly advanced technology, could they have made them?" Scarlett asked, remembering the scene. It didn't strike them as being too important at the time since the blast nearly sank the research vessel shortly afterward.

"No, it's Edrailian, with all its manufacturing indicators removed." Ayers answered, "It was a modified civilian model. Not the best makeover job, but doable."

"And definitely cause for alarm." Colton added "It's certain that we'll be dealing with more of this in the future, especially as time winds down. But, at least, we have a heads up. Which is far more than what most will have."

There was one more question; Roadblock raised his massive arm and hand for permission.

"Learning from…them." The big gunner stumbled through the beginning of his question; "the higher up's at the meeting cleared it…right?"

Colton started right at him. "No, it's our own initiative."

Stark silence.

"The meeting consisted of those whom I could trust to keep this matter safe." Colton told them. "They'll cover for us no matter what. Otherwise, none of us here would be seeing the light of day as free people ever again."

He wished for better news, or at least a better way of dealing with this matter. It wasn't in his character to deceive such good people, and what he was asking them and their teammates to do was by all degrees a secretive act of insubordination against the country they all took the oath to defend and protect. But yet at the same time, they were doing exactly that. Because if the incident was revealed, the mayhem and panic that would result would rival that of the passed Meteor Menace.

The only differences were the definite facts of what they were dealing with; extraterrestrial nationals who were going to expose their existence because they had no choice.

Until then, Colton had asked those he could trust to help keep the secret for as long as it was needed so to have the time to prepare for it. All they had to do was let them do it and hope that nothing interfered with it.

"You're asking a lot." Scarlett quietly said.

"I know." Colton quietly replied. "But it's necessary."

The nine quietly exchanged glances, and some murmurs of concern were raised amongst them. Then, a silence that meant that they had reached a decision.

It fell upon Duke to give the word.

"We've done things that were insubordinate only because there was no choice in the matter, it's in the records. The Politicians would have had a field day over this, and God only knows what the outcome would have been."

Colton knew, and understood.

The World was going to be forced to accept this. There was no other way around the matter.

The best he could hope for was that all the probabilities for disaster were headed off and dealt with before _The Day_ arrived. Thus making the transition easier for everyone to deal with.

After one last glance back at the others, who nodded their heads in silent agreement, Duke turned back to say, "We're with you, General…All the way."

And in that, Colton was relieved. He knew his people; he knew they'd pull through for him--for everyone.

Because they were the best. They were G.I. Joe.

And come what may, they'll face it head-on.

"You're taking this all very well." Hawkern said to Angel. "Most would have become either basket cases or gone into absolute denial."

"I owe it to my parents." Angel replied, smiling nervously while keeping her fatigue at bay.

They were on the third floor of the Library, a massive marble and steel building whose first two floors was dedicated to books and nothing but books. On what subjects Angel could only assume as they she followed Hawkern up a very majestic and wide wooden staircase past those levels to the third floor, which was more dedicated to open classrooms and a resource center—but no computers. That struck Angel as fascinating, given who the students most likely would be. She expected wall-to-wall technology, not a Bibliophile's paradise.

"Parents…" Hawkern wistfully nodded, "mine were always too busy, so guardians were always enlisted."

Angel, arching an eyebrow, listened. For all her outwardly appearance, Hawkern turned out to be more of a honestly doddering parent than lustful sexpot in formfitting leathers, this revealed while in a private bathroom tending to Angel's appearance. As for her 'wild lifestyle' so played up in the news, both mainstream and tabloid, she didn't hide the scandalous facts. Nor did she attempt to impose herself upon Angel in such a manner. Instead, she was polite and considerate to Angel's needs. Not at all like the vain trollop played up in the media for her numerous decadent dalliances.

Though she did tell which of those stories were true and which ones were false, doing so without overwhelming Angel with details.

"That's the trouble with Royalty," Hawkern continued, "They have no time to really deal with their children beyond courtly functions or marriage arrangements."

"You were Royalty?" Angel asked intrigued, to which Hawkern nodded, smiling.

"Tis were for most of my formable years, and on adventures with Kim and Donnie. But when it came time to be married off to some Lord's half-wit son, for the sake of creating some alliance over mineral rights, or something like that. I baulked and married Donnie. As a result, lost everything. Title, rank, prestige—everything."

"My sister got Kim." She smiled matter of factly. "I would have loved to have had him. Had quite a crush on him."

"She. Married him?" Angel gently said, stopping Hawkern

She had never asked him about it after his admission in the apartment. There wasn't a ring on his finger that indicated such or the time, but his state of mind at the time didn't allow such probing, and Angel was too scared to even try at the time.

"She's been dead for twenty years." Hawkern quietly told her while her smiled from earlier faded. "After her death, after escaping from Warlock, Kim went off on his own through the known galaxy, traveling as a commoner, serving as a mercenary, feeling guilty for not being there to save her. It's why he's all scared up.

"Every so often he call. Donnie, and I would go, and it would be like old times, to a point." Hawkern continued. "We'd always try to bring him back, but he wouldn't return. Liza and he went to a great many places; the memories most likely would be too painful for him to bear probably. But, if he did come back, my father wouldn't let him go at all. Marrying my sister made him royalty, and it's certain he'll next to assume the throne, and Father is becoming too old to continue…"

"But he did, has." Angel quietly said, becoming intrigued as to where the discussion was going.

"While out and about all those years, Kim had been inadvertently discovering clues, which he'd have us track down." Hawkern explained. "Liza hadn't died because of birth complication. She had been murdered, and by a current agent of Devronique's named 'Merrimeck', to avenge what my father did to his family centuries ago…

"Kim identified Merrimeck as Hydra_. That's_ why he came back."

They were now on the third floor, where the personal apartments for University Staff were located. Angel went over everything Hawkern told her; filling in all of the blank questionable spaces she had concerning Wildman's history and solving the biggest mystery of how he eluded everyone all those years.

He simply wasn't on the Earth.

Of course, that wouldn't be believable…for another two years. But in the meantime Angel had a very good ideal what would happen to her if she did try to return to her 'normal' life. Soon after they returned from Cobra Island, 'governmental officials', who then submitted her to extensive and exhaustive questioning over Wildman, removed her the next morning.

She didn't tell them everything. They'd think her insane. Had it not been for her father, who General Colton contacted on Wildman's behalf, she'd still be sitting in the windowless room under the lamps being interrogated like a criminal for no particular reason—being questioned again, and again, and again.

In having to deal with that, and most likely having to deal with it again upon her return made the choice so easy.

"Hydra's being with Cobra makes the matter all the more difficult." Angel mentioned.

"Not for Kim." Hawkern remarked just stopping before a door marked _'12'_ in bold brass numbers upon its surface. "Give him time and a chance, he'll succeed. And I'd like to be there when he does.

"He wanted to kill Hydra. But with the Shuttle and Devronique's maneuvering the situation to his advantage, Kim had to alter his plans. Of course, there's always 'later'. Devronique cannot save Hydra at this point without touching off a major war.

Insane with his desires and revenge as he is, he's not stupid enough at this point to start a major confrontation, no matter how much he hates my family. Besides, the Council wouldn't vote for anything worse than censoring him, out of the fear of setting of a major war.

"But then, several members of the Council are due to be replaced soon by their successors." Hawkern added with gloom, "Then war becomes only a matter of time."

She knocked on the door.

"Now, there's something I must ask of you." Hawkern gently asked.

Angel stayed quiet, not sure what to do next.

"Please, "Hawkern began, "Kim's…well, I'd like him to have as normal a life as possible. "

Angel slowly nodded.

"It's a lot of me to ask, I know." Hawkern continued. "But please, help him along as best as you can. Donnie, TOM, and I will be around as much as we can to help… But, apparently, he's…quite taken with you…and…"

Hawkern paused with mouth open when seeing Angel react in surprise to the news.

"Really?" It was quite a shock to be told that. But quickly looking back on their time together, Angel realized there was that connection.

Especially when they first met.

"Yes." Hawkern nervously nodded.

"Well, he did ask about me." Angel grinned slightly.

Relief washed across Hawkern's face. And she embraced Angel in a paternal hug, whispering, "Thank you."

Still smiling, Hawkern stepped back and opened the door for her.

Angel entered the room.

The suite was decently furnished, its sitting room had Victorian style furniture all upholstered in dark leather, with full bookshelves that lined bright walls and wood tabletops so perfectly polished they showed her reflection perfectly as she passed.

But where was he?

The sound of a door opening in the other room snapped her attention fully in that direction. And Wildman soon appeared from that room, looking quite different in baggy tan cargo pants while pulling his long mane of hair out from under the T-shirt he'd just put on.

And stopped in the doorway when he saw Angel, quite startled.

"Sorry…" Angel meekly spoke.

"It's alright." Wildman smiled, regaining his composure. "Glad to see you again."

"Same here." Angel said, regaining her composure. "I really didn't have much choice in leaving that night, you know."

Wildman nodded as he stepped into the room. "Colton told me about the security people grilling you over me." Then he paused, looking quite apologetic. "I'm sorry about dragging you into the mess…I mistook you—"

"For a Cobra agent." She cut in tiredly while walking towards him. "We had this discussion, remember?

Wildman nodded, working the last of his hair free of the shirt. Without the illusion of the Persuader, his wild hair cascaded over his large tapered ears in an unruly mess. "We also fought over it too."

She nodded, remembering. I

It really wasn't much of a fight. When he finally revealed himself to her, she inadvertently tumbled off the bed. And he, when trying to keep her from falling, fell with her to the floor.

It was more comical than anything else.

"It would have been quite a sight to have found us in a tussle." Wildman smiled back.

Angel's reply to that was a giggle. There were so many things that she had wanted to ask, but the questions that had been long on her mind just now didn't want to come out. For some weird reason, she couldn't concentrate on them now. And no matter how hard she tried too, they just would come.

"It seems like such a dream." She said.

Wildman quietly looked at her.

Angel looked wistfully at the person who so upended her life in such a dramatic way. "I really don't know what to say." She quietly, honestly, told him.

For the longest of moments they did nothing but stare at each other, she in wonderment and he in understanding. The rain still came down harshly outside, the world kept going on beyond the confines of the room

"I recall a promise," He gently told her. "A promise to be honest with you...about everything."

She didn't recall him making such a promise. But it really didn't matter walking up to Wildman, while heading towards an oblivious conclusion.

"You'd better keep that promise then." She whispered to him, just as she put her arms around him.

And he likewise her pulling her into a tight embrace, which Angel didn't mind at all


	17. Chapter 17

Epilogue.

Arboc Incorporate was a known international corporation specializing in transporting a wide variety of goods throughout the World, be they specialized or common items with competitive rates and various bill repayment plans…

To the outside observer.

Arboc was one of Cobra's more 'civilized' faces to the World. An organization run by high-ranking Crimson Guardsmen, they could move any amount of Cobra equipment and personal anywhere without raising any amount of suspicion.

In its Mexico Corporate Offices, Cobra Commander sat in the darkened CEO's office, quietly contemplating the future while holding a flash memory card between his gloved forefinger and thumb. He had been alone much since that night, just escaping the blast that not only leveled everything on Cobra Island, but also carved a second larger lagoon out of most of the islands southern side. Reports stated that it would be once again possible to return to the Island after six months.

That didn't concern him in the least.

The Lawyers quite skillfully spun a tale that placed the blame for what happened squarely on Serpentor, for causing serious amounts of interference that nearly thwarted the efforts to locate a cure for the Gulf contamination. Cobra Commander knew all along about the canisters of failed science experiments Mindbender dumped in the area of the Gulf, which had ruptured from the impact of the Edrailian ship crashing--which he had moved and replaced with a skillfully made fake meteorite prior to his appearance at the United Nations.

The toxics were rendered harmless due through chemical reactions with oxiders, and eventually cleaned up like spilled oil with sweepers and blotters.

And by thus the World was saved.

Which didn't concern him at the moment either.

What concerned him at the moment was the Flash Drive he was holding.

He had taken from Mindbender's cloning lab, thinking it contained the locations of other such labs where other Mindbenders were being grown, possibly as he was sitting there, to produce other Serpentor's to harass him at some time in the future.

But those prospects didn't that concern him at the moment either…

It was Hydra.

After crippling the rescue effort on the Delilegos, he wound up being by both Serpentor and Mindbender in the lab. And there, revealed everything about his mission.

And more…

He was a skilled scientist and trained assassin, sent by his then master, Lord Devronique, to hamper the rescue attempt by Wildman through sabotage and assassination of any crash survivors—the culmination of a diabolical plan set in motion years before that if it succeeded would have allowed Devronique to take control of the Edrailian Council by breaking Lord Hawker's power over it. Power that prevented him from creating an Empire to rule over everything…

Cobra Commander realized he had much more to contemplate on now. Much more than he believed possible.

Hydra was safe, for now anyway. Any movement would need to be under the strictest of control, especially in public, for both of them. There was no worry of him trying to flee from Cobra, both his old master and Wildman would kill him if they had the chance.

One for failing him.

The other for murdering his beloved wife.

Both could summon up more power than any nation on the Earth to kill him, if they knew where he was. Far, far more than Cobra ever could have.

To keep Hydra safe, there needed to be a way of countering this...

However, Cobra Commander had that one advantage--_he_ _knew_. He knew where they were, he knew who they are. It gave him something of an edge whenever it came to dealing with them.

All he had to do was to plan and plan very carefully, so to win.


End file.
